


Paradox of Pain

by 1031198



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, Anxiety Attacks, Asthma, Binge Eating Disorder, Blood, Bottom Butters, Bottom Clyde, Bottom Kyle, Bully Stan, Bullying, Changing POV’s, Clyde-Centric, Crossdresser Kyle, Crossdressing, Dom/sub, Drug Use, Eating Disorders, Falling In Love, Fat Clyde Donovan, Fat Shaming, First Time, Fluff, High School AU, Hurt/Comfort, Illness, Injury, Insecure Clyde, Kyle with braces, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mental Illness, POV Third Person, Sad clyde, Sex, Spanking, Suicidal Thoughts, This is probably really OOC, Top Craig, Top Stan, Top Token, Underage - Freeform, Violence, Weight Gain, Work In Progress, bottom tweek, bully kyle, tbh, top kenny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:09:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27720026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1031198/pseuds/1031198
Summary: Clyde's physique takes a hard hit over the summer and nothing he does seems to help. How will he survive his last two years of high school in his new body?
Relationships: Clyde Donovan/Scott Malkinson, Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Kenny McCormick/Leopold "Butters" Stotch, Kyle Broflovski/Stan Marsh
Comments: 40
Kudos: 65





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yo. This is my second South Park fic, so hopefully, it isn't too OOC. I hope to update every week or two, but we'll see. Anyways, if you don't like weight gain fics this probably isn't for you. I really wanted to make something that brings attention to the leading eating disorder in America, binge eating disorder, so I hope this accomplishes my mission. if you like it let me know, or if it's too cringy, also let me know. Thank you.

Clyde’s POV

Clyde had done it again. He’d given into his binge eating disorder, eating way too much in a way too short amount of time. His gaze traveled down his body until it landed on his extended stomach. Nausea crept up his throat and his midsection felt as if it was going to explode. Tears rolled down his face as he sat down on his bed, so tired of the eating disorder. Last year, at the end of the school year, he was only a little bit overweight, but now he was well into the category of obese. He felt so miserable with the way he looked and felt, almost as big as Cartman now. “What are people going to think when I go back to school?” He asked himself.

He was so worried about the way people would treat him, worried about all of the bullying he was most likely going to endure. With a soft grunt, he laid back on the soft mattress and pulled the comforter over himself. He always felt better like this: hidden. He hadn’t even gone over to any of his friends’ houses over the summer, but school started next week, so he couldn’t hide anymore. He pulled his phone over to him and just opted to watch a show or something, a new miserable habit of his as of recent. There were several text notifications flashing in front of his eyes, but he ignored them. There was no way he could see a friend in this state, they would think that he was a pathetic, fat, slob. Another tear leaked from his eyes as he thought of his friends. Craig, for one, was the most attractive guy he’d ever seen; his perfect, muscular body and pretty blue eyes luring in everyone he knew. Token, with his perfect smile and beautiful build. Tweek, without an ounce of fat on his lithe body. His thoughts raced as he compared himself to the other teenagers.

He wanted to get his mind off of the intrusive thoughts, so he brought his attention back to the device in his hands. The movie he picked turned out to be pretty tasteless, and he dozed off thirty minutes in. The sleep he had was restless, the amount of food consumed prior was making it hard for him to get comfortable. Aside from that, his back was constantly sore from carrying his weight. This also contributed to his bad sleep routines and constant fatigue. This night, however, he was able to get through with only getting up once. When he finally woke up, it was well after twelve in the afternoon, and was immediately met by the scowl on his mother’s face. “Clyde, I told you to not stay up that late, didn’t I?” The strict woman asked, hands on her hips menacingly.

“I’m sorry, I just I-.” Clyde stammered, having a hard time making up an excuse.

The older woman looked him up and down before finally replying. “If you keep this lifestyle you’re not even going to be able to get out of bed.” 

Clyde’s face paled considerably, feeling guilt for the first time that morning. With a small nod, he passed by her in order to get to the bathroom. He heard her sigh loudly but decided to think nothing of it. Once in the small space, his eyes roamed over his reflection in the mirror. He felt disgusted just looking at all of the extra fat and skin he possessed. He grazed the tips of his fingers over the raised red, bumpy patch of skin. Just recently had the stretch marks formed, adding another insecurity to his long list of them. Not in the mood to get too upset, he tore his eyes away from the mirror and continued doing his morning routine. Once he finished, he washed his hands and passed by the mirror completely. Before entering the hallway, he peered around the corner, making sure that his mom was nowhere to be seen. He let out the breath he had been holding in and made a beeline back to his bedroom. 

Just like the day before, he climbed immediately back into bed to play a game on his Playstation. In the process, he pulled out a bag of chips from his stash under his bed and shoved a large handful into his mouth. Without even paying attention to the amount he was eating, he easily breezed through the bag. With that now gone, he had the terrible and irresistible urge to go get something sweet from the kitchen. He wanted to stop himself, but at this point, why even try? He had tried that almost every day in the past, and it certainly hadn’t done anything for him. 

Deciding to just “fuck it,” he trudged down the stairs and into the spacious kitchen. On the counter laid a pack of donuts, which he grabbed as fast as he could before ascending the stairs again. Once in his safe area, he began to eat the sugary desserts one by one. He moaned around the first one, reveling in the way it made him feel. He grabbed his controller again and spent the rest of the day going back and forth between getting food and playing the game. Luckily, it seemed as if his mom had left to go run some errands, so he was left alone for most of the day. 

With a schedule repeating just the same as that day, the whole rest of the week seemed to fly by. Before he knew it, it was the morning of the first day of school. He barely woke up in time to stumble downstairs, grab something to eat, and pull his outfit on. For the first day, he decided to just go with some baggy sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt. He felt as if this was his safest outfit to wear for the occasion. 

After he had brushed a hairbrush through his messy brown hair, he threw on some cologne, grabbed his bag, and made his way to the door. He faintly heard his mom yelling at him to have a good day, which he blew off. He didn’t have the time to deal with her now, so he continued trekking his way to the small black car that he received as a birthday gift over the summer. After throwing his bag in the back, he squeezed into the driver’s seat. “God, had the car always been this small?” He thought to himself as he pulled the seatbelt over and clicked it into place. 

After doing some minor adjustments to his mirrors and such, he pulled out of the driveway and began his way to the high school. The drive altogether took around fifteen minutes before he was pulling into his assigned parking spot. He glanced around anxiously, observing the groups of teens swarming around the parking lot. He gulped down the fear and began gathering his things. After embarrassingly sliding out of the car, he began walking toward the entrance. Although no one was looking at him, he felt like they were. He couldn’t stop now though, he had made it too far already. 

As he walked into the crowded hallway, he navigated his way to his assigned locker. Because he had been going to this school for a couple of years, this task was not difficult. Immediately upon depositing his things inside the narrow space, a nasally voice interrupted his thoughts. “Hey dude, you never answered any of my texts,” Craig said.

Clyde turned around, his cheeks turning red as he took in the other male’s appearance. Damn, Craig had a really big glow up--something that Clyde didn’t even think was possible before. He grew a few inches, had gotten even fitter, and even dressed in a more suitable style for his personality. The brunette didn’t realize he was staring until Craig waved a hand in his face. “Answer my question.” 

“Oh, I uh, I was really busy.” He replied, lamely.

“Really? Well, I’m going to go check on Tweek. See you in class or at our usual lunch table.” Craig replied, lightly patting Clyde’s shoulder before walking away.

This was a good time for the shorter male to try and catch his breath. He had never been this nervous around one of his friends before. What was wrong with him?

The question was left unanswered as he began to make his way to the first hour, English. Unfortunately, he was running a bit late and entered an almost full classroom. He couldn’t deny that he felt a few stares on him and even heard the sound of whispering coming from the back. He glanced to the back, where he saw the red-headed skank Kyle Broflovski and the douchey football leader Stan Marsh staring him down and laughing. He hated those two almost as much as he hated the infamous school bully, Cartman. They used to be okay before they came out and started dating each other. The second that they became a thing, Stan started acting like everyone was below him and Kyle became the biggest know-it-all and slut in their class. He almost had the urge to flip them off, but the teacher had already made her way to him. “Hello. Nice to meet you,” She said, sticking out her hand for him to shake.

“Hello.” He replied simply. 

It took a moment of her talking to him before he realized that she was his English teacher last year, too. She hadn’t even recognized him. He felt the common feeling of insecurity make its way into his brain as he told her his name. Upon hearing that, the woman gave a look of surprise before remembering him too. It was obvious that she was trying to hide this, however, as she directed him toward a seat next to the most annoying kid he knew, Butters Stotch. “Hello er- Clyde?” Butters said, with an undertone of questioning. 

“Hi Butters,” Clyde replied, staring into the distance in hopes of getting the blond to leave him alone. 

Butters looked as if he was going to continue the “conversation,” but right at that second, the teacher saved him by beginning to talk about the cell phone rule in the handbook, and then handing out white papers for everyone to look at. Clyde let out a sigh of relief before finally getting a second to observe his surroundings. Most of the students in the room looked to be juniors like him, with just a couple of burnout seniors grouped together in the far corner. As for people he actually knew, there was Butters, who was seated beside him, but he also saw the likes of Stan, Kyle, and Kenny. Those three always seemed to be around each other, and it had been that way since elementary school. Clyde almost felt a spark of jealousy light up in his stomach.

His thoughts lingered on that topic for a minute before he noticed how uncomfortable he felt. His stomach was touching the front of his desk because of the lack of space between the chair and plastic edge of the table, and his back was beginning to feel sore from him sitting in the same position. He wiggled uncomfortably in his chair, eliciting a creaking noise to cut through the otherwise silent air around him. He heard more whispering from behind him, and finally had the guts to look back and glare at the two boyfriends. Kyle was leaned back in his chair, short legs crossed, with a slight smile that showed off his red metal braces, while Stan was leaned over into his space, whispering something in his ear and staring at the brunette. 

At this moment, Clyde felt so bad that he either wanted to get up and throw a few punches at the two, or run out the door and never come back. He couldn’t do either of these, however, as it would only embarrass him further. So, in a feeling of defeat, he turned around and focused on the paper in front of him. It was some random paper about school policy that he was supposed to take home and have his parents sign. He didn’t feel like doing that so, instead, he signed his mom’s name in a sloppy cursive font and placed it inside his folder. Upon inspection, he realized that everyone else was finished and waiting for the teacher to begin talking again. He sighed before checking his wristwatch. He had ten more minutes before he could move onto the second hour. 

In the span of these ten minutes, he was given two more papers in need of signatures, in which he forged himself, and was then on his way to algebra. This time, he entered into an almost empty classroom and got to pick a roomier looking desk in the back. The only other person besides the teacher was Wendy, a real stuck up bitch who has been number one in their class rankings for the past however-many years. He didn’t even pay her any mind as he took out his notebook and waited for the other students to filter in. He didn’t really notice anything interesting about them until he caught sight of Craig pulling a very anxious, very skinny Tweek into the room. “It’s okay babe, we can sit next to each other,” Craig announced, obviously trying to keep his voice down. 

“Craig I -Ahh! don’t think I can do this.” The tiny blond replied, his big green eyes beginning to fill with tears as his body twitched uncontrollably. 

At this point, the very tall, male teacher was approaching them to see why they were causing a disturbance in his classroom. “What’s going on over here?” He asked, crossing his arms in an obviously annoyed manner. 

Craig looked conflicted before leaning over so he could whisper something in the older man’s ear. Now, to Tweek’s misfortune, the whole class was peering at them, interested as to what kind of drama was happening now with the renowned couple. The teacher listened to his student before nodding him over to a set of desks all by themselves in the corner. It was when Tweek turned around to follow Craig that Clyde noticed how skinny he had become. A nauseous feeling washed over him as a realization cleared in his mind: The blond was struggling with an eating disorder of his own. It was obvious in the way his cheekbones and collarbones seemed to jut out of his pale skin. Clyde didn’t want to stare, so he averted his attention back to the front of the room, wishing that it was lunchtime already. 

As the hour ticked by, he made sure to take notes when needed and to also try and give himself a good reputation with the new teacher. There was no way he would survive the school year without doing this. When the bell finally rang, and it was time to leave, he grabbed up his stuff and exited the room. His third-hour computer class didn’t have anything interesting in it, but at least had one of his best friends, Token, there to talk to. Based on pure good fortune, he hadn’t had a class with Cartman yet, but it seemed as if two other assholes had taken his place. The two assholes that he shared two out of six classes with already. Luckily, they didn’t mess with him in the computer lab because they were too busy getting handsy with each other.

Once he was finally released from the dingy computer room, he made his way to the loud, intimidating cafeteria. His way to the lunch room, however, was by no means easy. The hallways were packed full of kids, and being one of larger size made him stand out as a target. He tried to keep to the sides so that people could easily pass him, but somehow he was still in the way. “Why is this fatass walking so damn slow?” he heard an irritated scoff come from behind him. 

With a red hot face, he stepped out of the way to let some older looking student pass him. In the moment, he felt humiliated. He couldn’t believe that someone could be that rude, and blunt for that matter, to someone they didn’t even know. He damned his sensibility as he tried to keep his eyes dry. He couldn’t cry in front of everyone like this, so he kept walking. It only took a minute to get to the cafeteria from there, and he arrived looking just as tore up as he felt. 

His eyes scanned the tables until they landed on the most familiar one, already accompanied by Jimmy. The disabled student was let out of classes before everyone else, so he was always early. Luckily for the brunette, Jimmy was the least observant of his friends, and didn’t even notice how upset Clyde looked. “Heya C-Clyde, long time n-n-no see,” Jimmy stuttered out.

“Hey, dude.” 

Their conversation was cut short by Token coming over and sitting next to Clyde. The brunette felt even more embarrassed as he noticed the lack of space on the bench he was seated at. Token barely had enough space to fit both of his skinny legs because Clyde was taking it all up. Because the two had already shared a class with each other, they didn’t really have much to talk about, so Token picked up the conversation with Jimmy. Instead of listening, or really caring what his two friends were discussing, he began picking apart the lunch his mom had made for him. Of course, it wasn’t like the brown paper bag held anything interesting, as Clyde’s mom had been trying to get her son to eat healthier all summer. His lunch was dull and consisted of just a ham and cheese sandwich, a bag of carrots, and a granola bar. However, even though his lunch was considered healthy, and ‘safe,’ for Clyde to eat in public, he still felt a common rush of anxiety course through him at the thought of eating it in front of his friends. It wasn’t even like they had said anything about his weight gain or had acted as they did, but he still felt like he would be judged by someone if he ate it. So, in a shameful act, he walked the bag over to the trash and threw it out. Although any other student would’ve taken the food off of his hands, he didn’t want to deal with the human interaction that came with pawning off his lunch. As he sauntered back to the familiar lunch table, he prayed to any god that was listening to have his friends not notice the act. 

It seemed as if his prayer was answered because the second he got back there were two more people seated next to Jimmy: Craig and Tweek. The two had managed to get the full attention of the two others as they bickered about something menial. Things were definitely normal if the couple was fighting. The only off putting thing about the situation was how all Tweek had in front of him was his coffee canister instead of food. As Clyde closely observed, that topic seemed to be what the couple was arguing about. “Tweek, I reminded you to grab it before we left,” he heard Craig whisper. 

“I-I must have left it on the counter or something,” the blond replied, obviously lying by the tone of his voice. 

“No, you didn’t.” Craig’s voice sounded awfully cold and strained. They must have been talking about Tweek’s lunch. 

Clyde sat back and watched as the commotion played out in front of him. After Craig replied, he saw Tweek reaching in his pocket and pulling out a bag full of small white pills. Immediately, “Babe, what are those?” The black-haired male asked. 

“My anxiety pills,” Tweek croaked out before taking one out, placing it on his tongue, and swallowing it with what one could only assume to be coffee.

At this point, Clyde lost interest. The two were in their own world anyway, so why should he invade? The buzzing noise of people around them filled his ears as he watched miserably as everyone enjoyed their calorie-filled lunches while remaining thin and accepted by society. He had thought about bringing up the incident in the hallway, or even the bullying dished-out by Stan and Kyle to his friends, but decided against the idea; they would probably make the situation worse if they knew about it. Time went by rather quickly, as it always does when you don’t want something to end. When the bell rang again, it was time for Clyde to obtain his supplies from his locker and make his way to his world language class. 

Just like the other experiences, he entered the room and took his seat. The class was filled with all kinds of new people, the only familiar faces being Butters and Kenny. With a new feeling of disappointment, he carried on with the boring subject. As he found out later, only burnouts and people looking for an easy way out took that class. This made for a very uneventful hour in Clyde’s day. At least he was able to relax from the otherwise stress-filled day during this time. It wasn’t until the bell rang for the fourth time that he felt the stress creeping back upon him. Going out into the hallways made for a new kind of horror for Clyde after the first incident occurred. It didn’t matter this time because his next class was right next to the one he was leaving. This is the first time he truly felt his weight impact his physical well-being that day. As he sat down in his physics class, he felt his lungs trying to leap out of his chest. With a choked up noise, he felt his lungs seem to clench together. “Oh god, this better not be happening right now,” his panicking mind told him.

Suddenly, he felt his throat constrict violently as his airways closed off. With a loud bang, the brunette slammed his hands on the desk as he searched his pockets for his trusty inhaler. “Fuck, I must have left it at home,” His racing mind registered.

Blood seemed to fill his ears as he began freaking out. This finally got the teacher in action. Vaguely, he could hear them ask what was going on, in which a more intelligent student answered that it looked like he was having an asthma attack. “Does anyone have an inhaler?” The teacher asked, voice loud as she tried to say calm. 

“I have mine,” yelled a low sounding voice.

It was only a matter of seconds before the device was being pushed against his lips and he was being instructed to inhale. It was almost like instant relief, as air filled his lungs and his consciousness started seeping back into him. The teacher was still standing there, a concerned look on her face. “Are you alright?”

Clyde looked up at her, feeling like he was going to throw up again. “I’m fine,” he choked out.

“Alright then. Would you at least like to go to the nurse’s office?”

“No,” Clyde replied, unable to hide his uneasiness.

And with that, the woman slowly walked back to the front and introduced herself like everything was fine. The rest of the class went by uncomfortably, as the teacher kept checking up on him to make sure he really was alright. At this point, he was really questioning this idea, but kept those thoughts to himself. He only had one more hour to make it through, so he tried to stay sane. This didn’t stay for long, however, because the second he walked into his last class he spotted the three devils. Cartman, for one, was seated in a chair by the wall, looking just as smug as ever. Kyle and Stan were seated across from each other, engrossed in a conversation. For some reason, Cartman seemed to ignore him completely when he walked, not even saying a word to or about Clyde. The brunette felt relieved about this and settled into a seat in the back, a row away from the evil boyfriends. It was the only seat left in the back, so he decided it was better than being in front of the two bullies. 

Upon him squeezing into the seat, he heard more vocalizations from who he could only assume to be Stan. “Dude, Kyle, did I tell you what happened last hour?”

“No, what happened?”

“Clyde had a fat attack and needed to borrow my inhaler,” Stan said, bursting into a fit of laughter. 

Clyde’s face heated up. “Oh no, it was Stan’s inhaler?” He was about to leave until they started speaking again. Even though he knew that the words were going to be mean, he couldn’t find himself getting up and protecting his mental state. 

“Oh god! You better disinfect it, or, better yet, throw it away!” Kyle said in between laughs. 

“I know dude!” The laughter and remarks continued, but Clyde couldn’t take any more of it. 

Tears were already sliding down his cheeks as he all but ran out of the room. The bathrooms looked inviting, so he slid into one of the stalls. A sob wracked his body as he tried to get the terrible words out of his head. It was only his first day, and he was already ready to drop out or transfer to another school. Time faded as he cried his eyes out. When the bell rang for the last time, he bolted from the bathroom, not caring if he had another asthma attack. 

Once he was finally inside the comforting space of his car, he got the hell out of there. How was he ever going to survive this school year?


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, again. I know that it's a little early to be posting the second chapter, but I've been writing so much in quarantine that I figured it would be fine to post this now. This chapter has a little bit of porn, (not my favorite porn but oh well), so hopefully it's okay. Lastly, thank you to everyone who read the last chapter, gave kudos, and commented. Those are the things that motivate me to continue writing.

Clyde’s POV

By the time Clyde had made it back home, and in the safety of his bed, he felt the most drained he had felt in a long time. Without a second thought, he curled up into the most comfortable position he could, and tried falling asleep. Without fail, the contemptible words from earlier started flowing through his mind. All he wanted was to have a blissful sleep where he could forget about his terrible day, but of course, something was trying to stop that. With a sudden surge of irritability, he shoved open his bedside drawer and began searching for the small pill bottle of melatonin. Once his hand finally located the cold plastic of the bottle, he fished out one pill and placed it in his mouth. With a sigh of relief, he leaned back and let the supplement do its job. Because of this, he was out cold in thirty minutes, his body finally getting the chance to recharge.

When he woke up, it was dark outside. Although his thoughts were cloudy, he could vaguely remember his mom texting him right before he drifted off, reminding him to get the dishes done before she got home from work. He slowly crept over to the window, eyes straining to see if her car was parked in the driveway. He couldn’t make out much due to the lack of lighting, so he decided to take his chances and go see for himself. After he had pulled on his favorite sweatshirt, the only one that wasn’t painfully tight, he quietly made his way into the living room. 

To his dismay, the dim light of the table lamp was glowing, which meant that someone was there. He hoped it was his father; the man at least held a little more sympathy for him than his mother did. After he rounded the corner, he saw the figure of who he could only assume to be the middle-aged man. He let out a breath and said a nervous, “Hello.” to him.

“Hi, Clyde. How was your first day?” The brown-haired man asked, setting his newspaper aside to give his full attention to his son. 

“It was, well, it was pretty bad.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. What happened to make you think that?” Came the soft voice. 

“Just the usual. A couple of my classmates made fun of me.” Clyde replied, feeling like the words were ones a first grader would say. 

“Is this something we need to alert the principle of?”

“No, I- I have it under control,” The younger male said, a shameful feeling invading his mind.

“Alright, son. Just let me know if it gets worse.”

Clyde’s father gave a small, reassuring smile, before picking up the paper and continuing to read a headline. The brunette would almost feel better after the conversation if it wasn’t for the sound of a car door slamming outside the window. “Oh shit!” His mind yelled at him, reminding him of the task he was supposed to be completing. 

The front door opened with an ominous squeak, and the stressed-out woman trudged tiredly through the entryway. He nervously stood there, watching her observe the kitchen. Clyde didn’t even notice the look of anger in her eyes until she was face-to-face with him. “Clyde, what did I tell you that I needed you to do before I came home?” The woman asked, obvious disappointment and exasperation showing by the tone of her voice.

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t get to your text until a few minutes ago,” He pleaded.

“I’m tired of this, Clyde! You don’t do anything around here anymore except for eat and sleep!” The distressed women all but yelled.

For what felt like the tenth time that day, he started crying. It’s not like he could help it anymore, his hormones were out of control. With a loud sniffle, he dashed up the stairs. Although he had just woke up from a nap, he climbed back in bed in hopes of being able to pass out again. The thought of taking another melatonin passed through his brain, but he disregarded it. He just wanted the day to be over. He still had school tomorrow, regardless of how much he wanted nothing to do with it. Unfortunately, with the state his mom was in already, she wasn’t going to let him have a day off—especially the second day of school. In other words, he was doomed.

The night ended up going by way too fast, his resentment toward going to school the next day only accelerating the course of time more. He could always skip class, but if someone found out his mother would never let him take a day off for the rest of the year. This is why he still ended up in the driver’s seat, key in the ignition, and black backpack resting on the floor. He slowly pushed down on the gas pedal, hand patting over his pocket for the fifth time already, confirming that the breathing device was there. Once that was checked on, he could relax for a moment and just drive. Some old song was playing on the radio, setting the atmosphere in the vehicle.

As he started nearing the big brick building, he began to take some deep breaths; he certainly didn’t want to have to hit Tweek up for some of his anxiety medication again. After doing a few breathing exercises, he pulled into the gravel lot and between the lines of his parking space. He wasn’t paying too much mind to the groups of random students like yesterday, instead focusing more on the fact that his two new bullies were standing outside, practically guarding the door. He spotted the curly-haired male first, a cigarette propped between his thin fingers as he blew the smoke into the chilly air. Stan was next, an arrogant smirk on his face as stared Clyde down.

“Hey Clyde,” Stan began. “I was just wondering if you wanted help with your car tomorrow.”

Whatever he was talking about, Clyde didn’t want to hear it, so he just continued onward. This, however, didn’t seem to go as planned because the second he started passing through the doorway, he felt a strong hand pulling him back outside. “Dude, you do know how rude it is to keep walking when someone’s just trying to offer you some help, don’t you? Stan said, voice sounding more like a sneer than a friendly recommendation.

Clyde gulped loudly, feeling intimidated by the tall athlete. “I- just leave me alone,” The brunette replied, pulling his arm from Stan’s grip.

Stan scowled before replying, “I was just going to ask if you wanted some help getting out of your car tomorrow because me and Kyle were so worried that you were going to get stuck. But, hey, don’t feel worried, we have the fire department on speed dial.” 

The black-haired douchebag let out a loud laugh before taking the redhead’s hand and ambling away. Clyde was left just staring at the ground, feeling pure hatred for his body. The fact that he was suddenly being treated differently just because he had gained weight tore him up inside. He felt so upset that he was finally bound and determined to go find one of his friends to vent to. He didn’t even feel remorseful when he plowed through a group of freshmen who were blocking his way. He needed to talk to someone, anyone. He wanted to unleash a whole bunch of shit on someone who was mentally stable, unlike himself at the moment. 

The only place he knew to go was their “secret” meeting spot from ninth grade, which was located underneath a staircase. He hadn’t met there with anyone in forever, so he had no idea who or what would be occupying the space. He felt the urge to turn around and go back to class like the star student he was but, currently, going to class was not his main priority. Once he had walked all the way to the spot, he took a moment to lean against the wall, trying to catch his breath. “Damn, Clyde. You okay there buddy?”

The brunette looked up to see the one and only Kenny Mccormick sitting in the dark area with a certain Butters Stotch leaned against him. Clyde eyed him eerily, curious as to why the two blonds were there in the first place. “I’m alright,” He finally let out. 

Kenny seemed to give him a once over, obviously seeing through the lie that Clyde just told him. However, before he could question his friend, he was retreating back into the hallway.

Kenny’s POV

How odd. The taller blond decided to just forget about the encounter, as he had much more important business to attend to. With a low sigh, he turned back around to meet Butters’ gaze. With a proud smirk, he began speaking. “What’re you blushing for?”

Butters lets out a small moan, ignoring Kenny’s question as he began grinding his crotch against the taller male’s leg, needily. Kenny couldn’t stop smiling at how absolutely cute his boyfriend was. “You really that horny?”

Butters bit his lip, his cheeks turning bright red as he nodded. Kenny didn’t waste any time pulling the other junior onto his lap, hands roaming over his small ass. With better access, the dirty blond was finally able to go in for a sloppy kiss. His arousal was getting worse with every passing second, and he needed to put his dick somewhere soon. Butters broke away from the kiss to say, “Are you sure we should be doing this here?”

Kenny gave him an incredulous look. “I need you now. No one will see us from here; they never have.” He reassured.

Before Butters could continue rambling about something that Kenny had no interest in hearing, he was sucking a mark into the pale flesh of his neck. Another moan escaped the smaller male’s throat as he began to writhe around. With only the grace of someone who is impatient, Kenny began to unbutton Butters’ shirt. With his lithe fingers, the shirt was off in a matter of seconds, giving him easy access to the pink nipples. Before he could go to town on the small nubs, he started pulling down the familiar black slacks that Butters seemed to always wear. They clung well to the small male’s ass and legs, and were kind of a pain to get off, but once they were finally gone Kenny got to take in his reward. However, there was one last piece of clothing that was stopping him from being able to ravage Butters. With gentle hands, he moved the other blond out of the way, and began fervently pushing his own jeans down to his knees. 

With those out of the way, he started licking and sucking on the smooth skin of Butters’ chest and nipples. Before the smaller blond could even register what was happening, Kenny was pushing his fingers into his mouth. With a noise of surprise, Butters started coating the intruding fingers in saliva. Kenny didn’t feel like all the foreplay was necessary, he just wanted to get it on. Immediately after removing his fingers from his boyfriend’s mouth, he was circling around Butters’ ring of muscles. In one fluid motion, his finger was pushed all the way inside. Butter’s moaned in ecstasy, clenching around the singular finger. After a moment of letting the small blond stretch and get comfortable around just one digit, he was pushing the second inside. 

Kenny’s hot breath tickled his neck. Just hearing the noises being produced by Butters was making him go crazy. After just a split second of adjusting around three fingers, Butters was ready for the real deal. Kenny lifted up the other male, aligned him with his dick, and slowly sat him back down. Kenny may have been average sized, but his boyfriend was so small that it didn’t really matter; the dick inside of him was plenty pleasuring.

While Kenny let out a few strings of quiet moans, the same did not apply to his boyfriend. Butters was loud. The high pitched noises reverberated loudy through the school as the blond tried to stay composed. He couldn’t help it though, Kenny knew the composition of his boyfriend’s insides too well. He knew exactly where his prostate was, and exactly how to pound into it to elicit the most vocal response. This made for very intense sex between the two males—sex that neither would deny when given the chance. 

This is exactly what led the two students to doing it before class almost every day of school for the last six months. Of course, during summer break they did this too, just in Butters’ small bedroom. However, the problem with doing it during school hours was that it usually took longer to complete their ‘task’ than the fifteen minutes of free time before the bell rang. This left both students sauntering into their first hour, half an hour late, looking completely wrecked. Butters would normally be worried about being grounded, but the sex was just too good. The second the blonds met up in their spot, they began ripping off each other’s clothes immediately. Today was no different: they didn’t take their time. They both had pent up frustrations, and a good fuck was the perfect way to release it. 

Once Kenny started nearing his orgasm, he took in a sharp inhale and came deeply inside the tight hole of the other blond. Subsequently, Butters didn’t even need to be touched to come, the feeling of his ass being pounded was good enough. Once both of them had their orgasms, Kenny repositioned so he could lean fully against the wall. The post-orgasm feeling left as quickly as it came, leaving him feeling fulfilled and satisfied. Although the sex helped them both relax, a good smoke afterward would only finalize the euphoric feeling. 

With one last kiss, Kenny placed Butters on the ground beside him. However, he couldn’t help but be a gentleman when it came to his boyfriend, so, in an act of kindness, he picked up the discarded clothes and helped Butters back into them. God, how was he supposed to make it through the day when all his boyfriend wore was the tightest jeans and slacks possible? He was almost irresistible. 

Once the both of them were clothed, they gathered their backpacks from the ground and smiled at each other. “You sure you don’t want to come with me?” Kenny asked, even though he knew the answer would be no. Butters had never smoked pot, and had never even felt the urge to do so.

“Sorry Ken. I should be getting to class. See you there?” The light voice of Kenny’s almost angelic boyfriend asked. 

“Yeah babe, I’ll be there in fifteen,” The taller male replied, leaning down for one more kiss.

With a wave goodbye, they parted their ways. Kenny watched as Butters rounded the corner, wondering how he of all people got so lucky to call the cutest person in the world his own. After hoisting his ratty bag over his shoulder, he started toward what everyone called the “burnout bathroom”. The bathroom was located at the far end of a hallway, at the far end of the school, in a place that no one usually ventured to unless they were going to do something against the rules. This is exactly what Kenny was about to do, something against the rules. He pushed the door, a small squeak emanating through the desolate hallway, and walked inside the tiled room. It smelled just like the pot that he had smoked the previous day. The only difference was that today he had some lower quality stuff; stuff that he bummed off of one of the other resident stoners. 

He then went ahead and started to set up his spot in the handicap stall. He dumped his bag on the floor, unzipped it, and grabbed out all of his supplies. With trained movements, he placed the weed inside the wrapping and began rolling it. Once it was firmly rolled up and a filter was placed safely in one end, he grabbed his lighter and lit up. After inhaling all of the herb, all the way to the glowing end, he threw the remaining embers in the toilet and flushed it. 

“That was nice.” He thought to himself hazily. After glancing at the broken face of his watch, he slowly realized that he was running late. If he didn’t hurry up, he wouldn’t be able to see Butters until third hour. With that in mind, he shoved his things back inside the safety of his old backpack and exited the room. The hallway was deserted, which made for good timing. He rushed back to his locker, grabbed his one notebook and pencil, and practically ran to the English class on the other side of the building. Once he arrived there, he let out a sigh of relief and knocked on the closed door. It took a second before the stern woman arrived to let him in. Usually, like the previous years, the scolding took place in the privacy of the hallway, but at this point the teacher didn’t even bother. 

“Kenny Mccormick. Where have you been, this is already your second tardy and it’s only the second day of school!” She all but screamed at him.

The tall blond blinked at her slowly as the weed began to take effect, and tried to formulate a plausible excuse. “I- my parent’s car wouldn’t start.” He tried, an awkward chuckle escaping his mouth.

The woman just shook her head, obviously not having the patience to deal with Kenny at the moment. The blond took this as a cue to make it to his seat, not even caring that all of the class was staring at him. Finally seated, he looked over to make eye contact with Butters who gazed at him with big eyes. Kenny just shot him a look and a shrug that clearly said, “oh well,” and leaned back in his chair. 

Clyde’s POV

The brunette was feeling excruciatingly restless. After visiting Kenny, he had been too exhausted to go seek out one of his friends. Because of this, he had to keep his pent up feelings inside until lunch. The second he sat down at their usual table, he planned on unleashing on his friends everything that had been happening. His first class had gone by okay, Stan and Kyle were there, but this time he was early enough to get a spot far away from them. If they were making fun of him, he at least couldn’t hear it. 

His second hour was just as mind-dulling as he expected it to be, with the exception of the continuous interruptions made by one of his classmates. It was difficult for a class involving Tweek to be uneventful because every minute or so the twitchy male would shout out some random noise, over which he had no control over. Clyde thought back to when Tweek and Craig weren’t dating and Tweek’s parents had to hire a paraprofessional to sit in class with the blond. Now that Craig was there, he took over that role. Every time Tweek would spasm, Craig was there to help him out and try to keep the distraction as under control as possible. Sometimes, Tweek would let out a noise loud enough for the whole class to hear, but normally he just made little scoffs and whimpers as he convulsed. 

By the time third hour rolled around, his stomach was growling way too loud for his liking. In fear of going without something in his stomach for the rest of the day, he shakily raised his hand and asked the teacher if he could go to the bathroom. With his permission, he got up and left the room. The brunette felt heat rise in his cheeks at the idea that had popped up in his mind. He felt like he was walking to his death as he trudged over to his locker. In one swift movement, he grabbed the paper bag his mom insisted on him taking, and hid it under his arm. From there, he walked to the nearest restroom. After picking out a suitable stall, he broke into the bag. It was the same boring lunch as the day before, but today it looked like the most delicious food he’d ever laid eyes on. 

He pulled the sandwich from it’s little bag, and began shoving it into his mouth. Even though he felt disgusting while doing so, he knew that the teacher would start getting suspicious if he was gone for longer than five minutes. After he demolished the sandwich, he moved onto the bag of carrots. They were definitely tasteless, but his disorder told him to keep eating. The granola bar was eaten in the same fashion: as quickly as possible. He felt relieved that he had gotten to eat something, but also disappointed at the fact that it was all gone. 

Last year, he could eat something else in the cafeteria without any worries. He wasn’t exactly skinny back then, but also wasn’t the biggest in his class, either. Now, the only person standing in the way of that title was Cartman. However, the gap was becoming smaller and smaller as Clyde put on more weight. What would happen if he surpassed Cartman? He wasn’t an intimidating bully like the other male, and wasn’t ready to fight back if someone tried to make him do so. The thoughts deeply disturbed him, so, in an act to try and get rid of them, he threw away the evidence and headed back to the classroom.

He sat back down next to Token, who was busy coding. The class went by rather fast after that, his mind finally getting to think about something other than eating. After he finished his own assignment, he got about five minutes of free time. Wanting to make a good impression, he grabbed out his notebook to take a few more notes instead of immediately picking up his phone. The teacher was slowly pacing around the room, checking to make sure that the students were staying on task. When she finally made her way to Clyde’s table, the boy was so immersed in the note he was scribbling down that he didn’t even notice the presence behind him. “Very good, Donovan.” The older man commented.

Clyde jumped at the startling voice, not expecting it. He turned to look at the teacher, who let out a soft laugh at his obvious surprise. “Thank you.” He replied sheepishly.

The man gave a head nod before continuing down the line of juniors. It wasn’t long after this that the bell rang and he was excused. Not wanting to have another incident like yesterday, he tried his hardest to hurry along to the cafeteria. By the time he got there, the loud room was already filling up with people mulling around and standing in line to get their food. Just like his usual routine, he sat on the side of his table across from Jimmy. The other male had already gotten his lunch, and was beginning to eat it. It was a bit awkward just sitting there as the disabled student picked through his food, so Clyde pulled his phone from his pocket and began sliding through one of his social media feeds. 

The first picture that popped up was one taken by Craig, a close up of one of the teachers faces with a caption that read, “Deep in thought.”

Clyde instantly let out a muted laugh at the picture on his screen. After going through the comments, he scrolled on. There were a couple more photos from various people, mostly the girls that allowed him to follow them. Everything was fine until he scrolled down to one picture. His finger immediately stopped, and his jaw dropped. The picture was of him in class, obviously taken from someone seated behind him. He studied the image, feeling bile rise in his throat as he studied his large form, taking up more than the whole seat and causing the chair to push backwards to fit all of him behind the desk. His eyes landed on the caption, which said, “Who’s going to sponsor our school’s renovation?” with a laughing emoji. His eyes scanned the page until he saw the username of the person who uploaded it. Of course. Kyle’s name and smiling face accompanied the picture. 

“Everyone’s seen it.” His conscience all but screamed at him.

He was so engrossed by his overwhelming emotions that he didn’t even notice that three other people now accompanied him and Jimmy. “Clyde? What’s wrong?” Token asked as he sat down.

Clyde didn’t want to show him, but he knew he had to. Without saying anything, he pushed the device in front of his best friend’s face. Token’s eyebrows instantly came together as he studied the picture. “Kyle Broflovski.” The black male seethed.

The words hung in the air for half a second before Token was suddenly and violently pushing his chair away from the table. “Where are you going?” Craig asked.

“To have a word with someone,” Token replied through gritted teeth.

“Oh God, what the fuck’s he doing?” Clyde thought.

When it finally registered what was happening, none of them could stop their friend. Token had already strided over to the table consisting of Stan, Kyle, Cartman, Kenny, and Butters, and brought his fist forward, straight into Kyle’s face. “What the he-”

A second punch landed on the redhead’s face as Token all but shoved him into the concrete floor. Stan was immediately lunging forward, trying to pry the other male off his boyfriend. A variety of muted sounds came from the three of them as Token landed another hit to Kyle’s face. The darker-haired male smashed his knuckles against the sharp metal adorning Kyle’s fucked-up teeth, causing blood to seep down his hand as he struggled to get Stan off of him. Token may have been strong, but not enough to resist being pulled backwards by the football player. By this point, everyone was watching, with some even recording the spectacle. All at once, the adults working the cafeteria gathered around them, pulling Stan and Token away from each other. Kyle still laid on the ground, unmoving as a few adults began to surround him.

Token had been so blinded by rage that he didn’t realize how much damage he had done. Kyle was unconscious, his face covered in a whole lot of blood. Stan was rushing to his side, trying to get him to wake up. It took a second, but eventually the redhead came to. Loud sobs wracked his body as he glared at Token blearily. Clyde, Craig, and Jimmy were all gathered around too, taking in the state of their friend. Token was left almost completely unscathed, only adorning a singular scratch on his cheek. The black-haired male was beginning to cool off, just in time for the principal to arrive, ordering two of the more athletic teachers to escort all three of them into her office.


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm basically uploading these chapters randomly because I'm writing so often. As always, I hope you like it. If you want, drop a kudos and comment. Thank you.

Token’s POV

The sheer quietness of the room made it almost sound like a sharp ringing noise was cutting through the air. The noise of an analog clock ticked in the background of the principal’s obsolete office. The scene was almost comical: the woman sitting behind her desk typing away on her computer, the dark-haired male staring off into the distance, the redhead slouched over onto his boyfriend. The three of them hadn’t said a word since the fight ended, causing a tense atmosphere. The two male teachers were still standing off to the side, there just in case another altercation occurred. 

Finally, the blonde-haired woman cleared her throat, looking up from the computer monitor. “Can one of you go grab Clyde Donovan for me please?” The older lady asked, eyeing the two teachers. 

One of the men quickly nodded before disappearing back into the hallway. With a look of sheer confliction, the woman began. “Alright, boys. We’re going to wait for Mr. Donovan to get here, then we’re going to resolve this conflict.” She announced, her voice giving away how tired and uninterested she was about the whole situation. 

It took about five minutes before the grey-haired teacher located Clyde and led him into the dimly-lit room. Token glanced his way, feeling a rush of guilt course through him. Clyde looked absolutely wrecked, with tear stains adorning his flushed cheeks and all. To say the black-haired male felt bad was an understatement; after instigating a physical fight without even consulting with him, Token could understand why Clyde would hate him forever. After a few terse moments passed, the bigger male took a seat in one of the plastic chairs and gave his best friend a worried glance. 

Finally, with a sigh, the principal got up and walked in front of her desk to get the best view of the four students. Her eyes landed on Token first, and she started by asking, “I heard you instigated this conflict, Mr. Black. Is this accusation correct?”

“Yes.” The wealthiest student replied, already feeling entirely apathetic about the conversation. 

“Okay. Would you mind telling me why you decided that resorting to violence was your best option on only the second day of the school year?”

“These two pieces of-” He began before deciding to lay off, mostly for the sake of not getting expelled. “These two took a picture of and harassed my best friend on a social media page that everyone in the school can view!” He growled.

The curly-haired woman glanced at Stan and Kyle. The redhead sniffled loudly as tears slid down his reddened, blood-caked face. He really should have been escorted to the hospital, but if he was awake, he was most likely lucid enough to engage in a brief conference with his peers. At least that’s what the principal had assumed.

“Mr. Broflovski, please sit up.” She commanded, a deep frown etched into her face.

The small male obliged, slowly pushing himself off of Stan with a grimace. “Thank you. Anyways, where is this picture Mr. Black speaks of?”

The woman crossed her arms, waiting for a response. A moment of silence passed before Stan was rolling his eyes and pulling his phone from his pocket. After tapping a couple of times, he located his boyfriend’s post. “Look, Kyle wasn’t harassing him.” The athletic male stated, pushing his phone toward the principal. 

After a moment of studying the image and its accompanying caption, she came to a verdict. “Mr. Black, you attacked Mr. Broflovski just because he took a picture of your friend?”

Her eyes showed her confusion perfectly, only igniting Token’s anger further. “Mrs. Victoria, he didn’t just take a picture. He took an embarrassing picture of Clyde to try and humiliate him!” 

The woman shook her head, obviously not agreeing with what had just been vocalized. “Mr. Black, a picture is not enough of a reason to hurt someone else!” She finally had a look of anger flash across her otherwise passive face. 

Without giving the black-haired male a chance to speak again, she continued. “Unfortunately, that is still a breach of school policy, so I’m going to have to suspend you for two weeks.”

Token gasped loudly at the words. However, before he could argue, Clyde was finally speaking up. “Wait!” The brunette started, looking just as disheveled as ever. “It isn’t just that picture that’s been a problem. They- they’ve been harassing me since the first day back.” 

The last few words were jumbled together anxiously, spoken in a barely-audible whisper. With that, the woman finally looked a little interested in something being said. “Please elaborate Mr. Donovan.”

Clyde wrung his hands together as more tears fell from his eyes. He took in a large breath of air before beginning to talk. “Well, just yesterday Stan stopped me when I got here. He-he asked me an inappropriate question.” 

All four of the other people in the room were staring at him now—Token, especially. “What kind of inappropriate question?” The blonde-haired woman asked, her eyebrows furrowing. 

Clyde’s cheeks felt extremely hot as he glanced at the principal. He really didn’t want to answer the question, but Token had defended him just to prove a point to the two bullies. He even put his education on the line, a previously unthinkable feat for any member of the Black family. “They asked me if- if I neededhelpgettingoutofmycar.” 

The brunette’s gaze fell to the floor as he felt embarrassment travel through him. Principal Victoria, being the stressed-out woman she was, could not seem to understand what was being said. “I didn’t catch that, Mr. Donovan.”

Clyde didn’t want to be there anymore; he just wanted to go back home and stay in his bed for the rest of the day. In his mind, he knew that he had to just rip the bandaid off so he could get out of there. Tears cascaded down his cheeks as he finally replied. “They’ve been making fun of my weight since school started again!” His reply was definitely overdramatic, but he couldn’t help it.

Silence took over the room, none of them knowing what to say. Finally, after a long second of stillness, the older woman apparently found the words she’d been searching for. “I take it this behavior has been a trend, Mr. Broflovski?” Her gaze moved to the redhead.

“No. Stan and I have only given him compliments the last two days.” The still dazed male replied, lisp coming through more than usual.

“That’s right principle Victoria, there isn’t anything bad we could say about our friend Clyde.” Stan added, his voice unwavering as he told the obvious lie. 

“That’s good to hear.” She then glanced at the clock before continuing, “Well, I think we’ve come to a conclusion. Mr. Black, you have a week of suspension. Mr. Broflovski, you have a two day suspension and three days of after-school detention, and Mr. Marsh, you have two days of lunch detention.”

Token huffed, still upset about the situation but not enough to mention it, and Clyde could’ve sworn that he saw a smirk flash across Stan’s smug face at the announcement. It would’ve made him more mad if he wasn’t so concerned about what it meant. After a second of completing the write-ups, the woman released them, and they were finally able to begin filing out of the room. Clyde lingered for the longest, as usual, and the principal stopped him as he entered the doorway. Because of certain circumstances, the blonde woman excused him for the rest of the day so he could go home and “gather his thoughts”. This was a good thing because he probably wouldn’t have been able to focus on his remaining classes anyway. 

After leaving he made sure to check on Token, asking him if he was okay and telling him to text him if he wanted. Although he wasn’t too keen on the idea of talking to anyone, he would make an exception for his friend. After getting his things from his locker, he walked back outside into the frosty air, where his car was located. After throwing his stuff into the back, he climbed into the front seat. His emotions were all over the place as he pulled away from the hell that people call “high school”. 

The drive was over quickly, his thoughts consumed by the idea of getting something to eat and going back to bed. It was weird arriving home and remaining entirely alone, but it made him happy to know that he didn’t have to deal with anyone. The second he had put his stuff down, he was in the kitchen. The thought of dieting crossed his mind, making him frown instantly in distaste. He really, really wanted to lose weight, but at the same time, he just wanted to feel better. This is the thought process that was constantly leading him to do something he so badly wanted to be able to stop. Needless to say, he ate everything in sight without any form of self-control. The number of calories he had consumed probably surpassed three thousand by the time he was done, and his stomach felt terribly full as he started up the stairs to his room. The tears started up again, worsening the condition of the red, puffy skin around his eyes. The only solace he could find to fix his unmanageable emotions was food, but when he found himself not able to keep another bite down, the only solace he could find was in sleep.

Kyle’s POV

The blood had completely dried, it’s crimson color darkening as it began flaking away. The short male dragged his fingertips lightly over the wounds, wincing at the feeling it caused. His mom was on her way, most likely driving like a mad woman after finding out her son had gotten assaulted. Stan was still by his side, rubbing soothing circles into his back. They weren’t talking to each other, instead just staying close for comfort. Stan definitely had a few of his own bruises and cuts adorning his face, but nothing compared to his boyfriend. 

The office was quiet, the only noise being Craig Tucker, who was clicking a pen as he waited for the counselor. Kyle wanted to wash the blood from beneath his nose, where most of it was collected, but couldn’t because of the pain it caused. The old lady at the main office desk told him to wait until his mom could drive him over to the nearest urgent care. He was sincerely worried about her reaction, knowing how crazy she could get about certain things. Stan was there for the moment, but he knew that he would be ripped away when his mom stormed in. 

Luckily, the football player had gotten off easy, only being sentenced to two days of lunch detention. Still, this was probably the only type of punishment he could be given, being the star football player and all. If they didn’t have him to play in every game, they would be doomed to failure, so suspension and after-school detentions were out of question. This is why he was able to get away with so much; if he got in trouble he would be benched for a whole game. 

Kyle was so deep in thought, thinking about the whole ordeal he just witnessed, that he didn’t notice his mom barging into the room. “Kyle, lets go.” She said, straight to the point.

Kyle looked startled, but instinctively wiped the look off his face before his tyrant mother could notice. He couldn’t fathom why she didn’t freak out immediately over the appearance of his face, but decided to be thankful for that. Finally, he grabbed his bag off the carpeted floor before giving Stan one last look. “Text me?”

“Yeah babe, I’ll text you.” Stan didn’t just say the words, he mumbled them into Kyle’s mouth as he softly kissed the cuts aligning his swollen lips. 

Sheila, who had just finished signing her son out, gave them a stern look before pushing the door open and exiting the building. They began walking toward the parked vehicle, no words being exchanged. Immediately upon them both entering the car and pulling on their seatbelts was Sheila pulling out of the parking spot and exiting the school. Kyle took in the scenery around him, not daring to look at his mom. Because the principle had called the older women and explained everything to her, she didn’t have much to say. She knew that Kyle had been bullying someone and finally got retaliated against. While she felt bad that her son had gotten hurt, the disappointment she felt about him bullying another student just because of his size was a worse feeling. Although she wanted to chew him out the second they were out of public eye, she didn’t. She at least had to get him patched up before she could punish him.

The entire ten minute drive to the urgent care was tense. The radio played along in the background, and the bumps in the road created a beat and tempo to match the music. When they finally pulled up to a building, the redhead was surprised by how sleek and modern it looked. Because of his dad’s high-paying job, they had extremely good health insurance that allowed them to get the best treatment. Once they had parked, they both exited the car. At this moment, he would have done anything to be able to smoke a cigarette. The breezy, cold air reminded him of the familiar feeling of withdrawal.

Once they had gone to the receptionist and signed in, the doctor was calling his name. His body felt as if it was made of lead when he stood up, and a light-headed feeling seeping through him as he followed the doctor into the room. Per standard protocol, the man instructed him to stand on the scale, and then proceeded to scribble down the low number. The older man’s face was placid as he instructed the redhead to sit on the table in the room. Before doing anything worthwhile, he asked the young male all of the typical questions— Do you smoke? Do you do any drugs? Do you have unprotected sex? All of which Kyle couldn’t help but lie about; his mom was staring at him the whole time, curious as to what he was going to say. Ever since he started going over to Stan’s house more frequently, she became increasingly suspicious. 

After doing all of the general check-up type things, he began examining the teenager’s facial state. The burning feeling of peroxide hit his skin as the doctor began rubbing the blood off. There were several spots that would bruise terribly, and both of his eyes were going to have dark rings appear on them in a short while, but that wasn’t the worst detail. It was his nose that concerned the older man. It had obviously been broken, crooked at an odd angle and extremely swollen. Kyle winced as the man gently touched it with his gloved hand.

After finishing the examination, the man backed up to explain his findings. “Well son, you definitely have a broken nose. Your entire face also has a lot of bruises and cuts, but those should be fully healed within a couple of weeks. As for your nose, you're going to need a minor surgery. All this will entail is having the bones surgically realigned after being given a local anesthetic.” The man finished, then picked up his clipboard again.

Sheila gasped, worriedly looking at her son and then back at the doctor. “I didn’t know it was that bad.” She whispered.

Kyle’s glance traveled to the floor, taking in the information. If it wasn’t for the Tylenol that the school nurse administered to him, he probably wouldn’t even be able to talk. “When can I get the surgery?”

The man looked up from his clipboard. “Well, it is a simple outpatient surgery, so if you drive over to the nearest hospital, they might be able to fix it today.”

“Okay, we’ll do that.” Sheila replied.

After a minute of writing some notes down, the man was opening the door and wishing them a good day. The hospital the doctor had referred them to was located conveniently close, as it was a part of the same chain of medical practices as the urgent care. The parking lot was almost completely desolate, which gave off almost a tired atmosphere. Inside was just the same as a nurse led the short male into a room made for small surgeries. The air smelled like disinfectant, which was so strong that it made him cough. After being instructed to lay back on the bed, the woman fashioned an oxygen mask over his mouth lightly. It did hurt a little, but he managed to relax fairly quickly. 

The anesthetic wasn’t a particularly strong one, but still managed to knock him out in a minute. The surgery was then conducted in a timely manner, and it didn’t take long before they were finally putting the splint and cotton up his nostrils. With it finally completed, the medical workers left the room to allow the anesthesia to wear off. Sheila was by his side, holding his thin hand in her own. Because the procedure was such a mild one, they only had him put a piece of paper-like material around his neck to catch any blood that they didn’t. This left him in his own clothes: a simple black jacket and black jeans. Today was only the second day of school, so he didn’t want to give off the impression that he normally did when he wore something a lot more feminine. 

Sheila had nothing else to do while waiting, so she just looked around. She hardly ever got to see her older son anymore, so she took a moment to study him. A smile was beginning to form on her lips at a fond memory of him as a young child appeared in her mind. However, to her discontent, the look evaporated as soon as it landed. Her eyebrows knitted together immediately when she noticed the top of something white sticking out of his front pocket. It was the shape of a rectangle, and had sharp corners. Being the nosey parent she was, she reached forward and pulled the object from his pocket. With a terrible realization, she dropped the carton of cigarettes and clasped her hands over her mouth in a surprised gesture. 

Everything made sense now. All of the instances when she would be doing the laundry and caught a whiff of the bitter-smelling smoke, or when she would get into the car and have to roll the windows down for a moment to get the smell out. Every single time she would go straight to her husband, Gerald, and berate him for ten minutes straight. She felt nauseous at the sudden apprehension, now knowing that she was going to have to have a long talk with her son. Before the aforementioned teenager got the chance to return to consciousness, she stuffed the carton in her pocket and put on a blank expression. She would have to wait to discuss the issue until they were home. 

The male ended up being out for longer than anticipated because his body had been under such stress that day. When he did finally awaken, the doctor was alerted and came back to go over how the surgery went, and how to take care of the wound. After Sheila finished up the final paperwork, the groggy male was escorted back to the vehicle by his mother. The woman’s fury was under wraps until they were home so the drive back was, once again, heavily uncomfortable. Luckily, the time went by fast, and soon enough, they were back home. 

At this point, the redhead was less out of it. Without even thinking about it, he started his way to his bedroom, his only sanctuary. He didn’t even get halfway through the house before Sheila was yelling at him to “get back here.” With a look of pure astonishment, he backtracked through the living room, where he took a seat on the couch across from his mother. 

“Young man, we have some things to discuss. I want to know exactly who you’ve been tormenting, and why.” She asked, crossing her arms.

Kyle felt stunned, not sure how to answer the question. “His name’s Clyde Donovan,” He stopped to look down in shame, “I- I don’t know why I’ve been mean to him.” His voice was small, and his lisp was in full force. 

“Well, I heard from principal Victoria that you’ve been persecuting that poor boy just because of his weight.” Her tone almost made it sound like she was talking to a child. 

“No I- well. Yeah. You’re right.” He finally admitted, voice wavering. 

“Why on Earth would you do that? He probably already gets enough trouble from other kids for that.” 

Kyle felt contemptible for the moment, his mother always made sure of that. The only problem was that when he got around Stan again, his attitude problems surfaced. For now though, he had to act like he was sorry to get his mom off of his back. “I don’t know. I feel really bad about it now.” He replied, voice holding false emotion.

“I’m happy to hear that. I’m going to call his mom later, explain what’s been going on, and ask for him so you can give a formal apology.” 

Through all of the bruises and cuts, his face paled. “You-you don’t have to do that. I’ll tell him at school on Thursday.” He said, beginning to panic.

“I will be doing just that, and you have no choice in the matter.” She remarked, trying to keep her voice level.

“I refuse! It’d be too humiliating!” His voice was shaking as he tried to convince the woman. 

“No Kyle, that’s my final decision.” She replied, her voice giving off the tone of an alert.

The redhead looked like he was going to argue, but the woman stopped him. “There's something else I wanted to talk to you about,” She paused for a moment, pulling something from her cardigan pocket. “What are these?” She held up the marlboros, the brand new pack that he had just bought from Kenny.

Kyle deadpanned, feeling the hairs on his arms stand up. “Wh-where did you get those!” 

“They were in your pants pocket when you were getting your nose all fixed up.” The lady said, an unreadable bout of sentiment passing her face.

Kyle felt hot tears build in his eyes, an overwhelming amount of emotion flooding through him. As for Sheila, she wanted to feel nothing, but still managed to experience a high level of concern for her son. “How long have you been smoking.”

The question was simple enough, but it still caused a heavy feeling to close around Kyle’s ribcage. “I don’t know. Maybe about two years.” His response sounded just as guilty as he wished he actually felt. 

“Two years? Do you know how much damage that’s probably done to your lungs?!” Her voice cracked as she raised it. The pronouncement wasn’t even what she was really thinking. The first thing that actually popped up in her mind was, “How did I not notice for that long?”

Because of this fact, she felt like a terrible parent, and the only way to make it up was by setting her son straight. She didn’t even give the redhead a chance to reply before she was carrying on. “I have limited choice as to how to punish you. To start off, you’re not going to see Stan or leave this house. I want you to stay at home, clean out the garage, and write a long apology to give the principle for when you return. Also, no phone or TV for the rest of the week. If I see or smell these again,” She held up the cigarettes, “you will not see your phone again. Lastly, If I hear of you tormenting that poor boy at school one more time, I will not only be taking your phone away, but also your privileges to see Stan, or any of your friends for that matter, out of school. You may go to your room now, I’ll come get you when dinner’s ready.” With the end of the tirade, she got up, brushed her cardigan off, and left the room. 

Kyle checked his pockets once more, thinking for a moment that she may have forgotten to remove his phone. The excited feeling left quickly, though, because he soon realized that she must have also taken the device when she found his cigarettes. With a walk of pure humiliation, he sluggishly made his way to his room. This week was going to suck.


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this chapter does contain a mild sex scene and suicidal thoughts. Other than that, let me know what you think.

Kyle’s POV

Sheila’s loud voice surpassed the barrier of Kyle’s room door faster than he could even manage to scowl. According to the obnoxiously loud sound hitting his ears, dinner was ready. Although it was irritating to be called in such a way, he was just glad to have gotten to do something. Without his phone, his room was nothing more than a bed and a closet full of clothes. Neither of those things were interesting, so he took to reading a fashion magazine that he had stashed away behind his dresser to pass the time. He all but ran down the hall when his mom called him, wanting to get out of his stuffy room for a moment. 

He sat at his usual chair at the table, not really enthused about dinner, but just glad that he wasn’t staring at the magazines anymore. Soon enough, Ike was bounding into the dining room, eyes trained on his phone the whole time. Kyle would have rolled his eyes if his face wasn’t so beat up. Quickly after his brother was seated, Gerald, too, was taking his seat. “Hey Kyle, how was your-” The man instantly blanked upon seeing his son’s face. “-Day?”

The redhead shook his head before filling his dad in on the details. By this point, Sheila was joining them, a steaming dish of food in her clutch. This finally got the attention of Ike, who was instantly giving Kyle the same treatment that his dad just did. After retelling the story, everyone was ready to begin eating. For once in a long while, Kyle was actually taking a large serving, the nicotine withdrawal hitting him with it’s brute force. He ate hungrily, not wasting any time. Just as he was about to sneak back to his room, Sheila was, for the second time that day, yelling at him to stop. He huffed loudly, ready to launch into full on spoiled brat mode. This time, it was Gerald who was shooting him a warning look. Unlike when his mother did it, he stopped in his tracks immediately, knowing that if he got his father mad, things would go down hill quickly.

The heavily accented woman got up and followed him to the old phone on the wall. It had been there for a long time, longer than Kyle could remember, and was only used in situations like these. “I already got Mrs. Donovan’s number. I want you to sound sincere when you apologize, Kyle.” She practically commanded. 

The redhead shuddered, the thought of talking to the overweight male was making his skin crawl. “Why do I have to tolerate that fat piece of-” His string of angry, rude thoughts immediately seized at the feeling of the phone being thrust into his hands. 

“Hello?” Asked the timid voice on the other line. 

“Hi- uh, Clyde?” 

“Yeah, this is Clyde.” The voice replied, sounding confused.

“This is Kyle Broflovski.” The redhead eyed his mother. The woman was standing way too close for his liking, making sure to be in earshot of the conversation. 

“I just- I wanted to say I’m sorry.” The amount of control he had while talking was shocking.

“Oh. Th- thank you, I guess.” Clyde replied, his own voice holding a good amount of fatigue in it. 

“Yeah… Uh- Goodbye.” Kyle waited to hear the other voice reply before hanging the phone back up on it’s clip.

He turned back around to face his mother. “See Kyle, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“No. It wasn’t.” He felt sick after the conversation so, luckily, Sheila excused him back to his room after the humiliating call. 

His eyes landed on a particular magazine, covered in dust and photos of half-naked men. He flipped to the perfect page and licked his lips at the Stan look alike. 

Clyde’s POV

“That was weird.” The brunette thought to himself as he sat the phone down. The call was something he’d never expect in a million years, something that he thought he’d die before receiving. He could tell that Kyle was under pressure while talking, obviously not too sincere about his words. Clyde exhaled, his heart pumping way too fast for his liking. Without thinking twice, he receded to the couch to sit down. 

The next day of school was dreary. It was raining outside, and everyone seemed to either be tired and out of it, or way too hyper and loud. Stan was quiet from the moment he stepped into class, and had remained silent until he exited it; he obviously knew to back off for the time being. For once, Clyde sat through the classes without any interruptions, and was able to fully give his attention to the teachers. The one thing that felt off was sitting in the computer lab without Token by his side. He had no one to talk to, and felt quite lonely as he watched the other students conversing. He wished that he had Jimmy in at least one class so he could get the chance to talk to him. Instead, he only shared one class with Token, and one class with Tweek and Craig, who were both secluded in the far corner so that the blond didn’t get too anxious. This year had successfully made him hate his life in a way he never knew possible. 

The hours passed, which led to him sitting at the lunch table. To his dismay, Kenny and Butters were there too, feeding each other like they were in middle school again. This left him with only one spot to sit: next to Craig, who had also arrived there before him with Tweek glued to his side. The two males seemed to be arguing as Clyde pushed his way onto the bench, half of him hanging off the side. “Babe, I told you not to take two before class.” Came Craig’s hushed voice.

“I-I’m fine Craig, rela- Ah! -x.” Clyde had to strain to hear the blond’s reply as he screamed loudly in the middle of it, earning some glares from neighboring tables. 

The noirette shook his head disdainfully, before turning to face the brunette on his opposite side. “Hey, Clyde. How’s it going?” 

“Eh, it’s going, well- the best it has so far, now that Kyle isn’t here.” Clyde replied, his feelings still hurt about the previous instances between him and the redhead. 

Craig gave a nod, clearly thinking about what to say next. “Yeah, Kyle can be a real asshole. I can’t believe he was going after you though. Usually Cartman is his first target.” 

“Yeah, I don’t know why he hates me so much all of the sudden.” Clyde awkwardly laughed at his own words.

“I mean- It’s not like he’s looking his best this year, either. At least you look good with a few extra pounds.” Craig stated around a bite of food, his blunt attitude surfacing. 

Clyde looked bewildered. Had Craig really just said that? Was it even a compliment? “Uh. Heh. Thank you?” 

“You’re welcome,” Craig paused for a second to scooch closer to Tweek so Clyde could have more room. “I feel like as friends, we should talk more about our issues, you know?”

The reply sounded way too casual for Clyde’s liking. “Yeah, we should.” 

Craig pushed the styrofoam tray away from him, and turned so he was facing the brunette completely. “I just wanna know how you’ve been doing. We haven’t got to talk yet, and you never answer my texts.”

“Sorry, I don’t usually check my text messages.” Clyde’s reply was quite small compared to what Craig had been saying. 

“That’s okay. Anyway, I want to know how your summer went, be honest.” Clyde’s friend of six years said, not a speck of judgement showing in his hazel-colored eyes. 

“It went- well, it was okay. I just ended up staying in my house most of the time, eating my feelings.” Clyde replied, trusting his friend enough to tell him some of his most embarrassing aspects of his current livelihood. 

“I see. I tried coming over a couple of times, but your mom always said you were either busy or sick.” Craig commented.

“Yeah, I made myself sick a lot.” Heat rose to his cheeks as he admitted to his worst habit.

“You mean, like, by eating too much, or by trying to throw up?” Craig’s voice was laced with concern as he asked the question. 

“By eating too much. I just feel so overwhelmed sometimes. It makes me eat a lot more than I should.” 

Craig nodded sympathetically. He could clearly see how bad his friend was hurting, so, In a very uncharacteristic move, he wrapped his arms around the brunette for a split second, trying to comfort him. Clyde stiffened, then relaxed at the sudden contact. He hugged back, almost in tears by how nice and accepting his friend was being. “I’m here for you if you ever need something.” Was all the black haired male said after breaking away from the embrace. 

“Thanks.” Clyde said, smiling for the first time in a while. 

The bell had gone off, so they began throwing their stuff away and filtering out of the many exits. Before Clyde could get too far, however, Craig was jogging up to his side. “Oh yeah, I forgot to ask if you wanted to hang out after school today. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it’ll just be me and Tweek. We could watch a movie or something, it’d be cool.”

Clyde’s small smile appeared again as he fumbled with his shirt anxiously. “Yeah, I’d like that. So, you want me to come by right after school?”

Craig nodded. “Yeah, after school. I usually walk home, so I’ll meet you at your locker, okay?”

Clyde wanted to mention his car, but didn’t. He didn’t want Craig thinking that he wasn’t able to walk the two blocks to his house. “Okay, see you later.”

Once Craig was finally out of his sight, he continued on. He felt a flurry of mixed feelings that he wasn’t accustomed to rise. He was excited to spend some time with his friends, but he just wasn’t used to it. The prior year, he was constantly hanging out at Craig’s house, he practically lived there. When the summer started and his depression flared up, he no longer visited anyone. Because of this, the idea of going somewhere other than his own home was scary and foreign. He could do it though, he would do it. With that in mind, he trekked his way to his next class, a new feeling settling in his chest.

With the anticipation of actually doing something after school ended, the day seemed to fly by, and soon enough, he was walking with Tweek and Craig to the black-haired male’s house. Clyde hadn’t been there in forever, and was surprised to see the upgrades to the outside. There appeared to be new siding, its plastic shine and overall cleanliness was very appealing to look at. There was also a plethora of new lawn decorations sitting on the frozen ground. It made Clyde feel at home again. 

With the jingling sound of keys in the background, Clyde observed his friend as he unlocked the door. Craig just seemed different this year. Sure, he was just as caring and protective as he was in previous years, but this year he seemed to be way more preoccupied by the state of his boyfriend than before. He was constantly checking up on him, even as they entered the foyer of the house. “Here Tweek, honey, give me your jacket.” He put out his hand, and the smaller male placed the tiny piece of fabric, which he always had wrapped around his petite frame, in his palm.

After they had all taken off their shoes and jackets, Craig led them into the kitchen. Clyde couldn’t help but notice how the black-haired male all but forced a pale, sickly-looking Tweek into one of the stools by the counter. “We need snacks before we do anything.” Craig declared as he began going through the pantry.

When he turned back to the two, his arms were loaded with different foods: crackers, chips, pretzels, mini doughnuts, and cookies were a couple of the things that Clyde could spot. After that, the brunette and blond followed him into the basement, where a large TV and couch were. He dumped the snacks on the couch before saying that he’d “be right back”, and disappeared back up the stairs. It was kind of awkward for Clyde to just be around Tweek; he didn’t know the short male as well as he knew Craig. 

However, Tweek seemed completely unbothered as he pulled a familiar looking bag of white pills from his pocket. With a suspicious glance around, he opened it and pulled one out. Clyde tried not to stare, but he was just so curious as to what the other male was doing. Tweek’s eyes looked awfully bloodshot as they met Clyde’s. “You want one?” The blond whispered, shaking the clear bag for emphasis. 

“N-no thank you.” Clyde replied, starting to feel uneasy.

“Are you sure? It’s hard to get- Ah!- Xanies prescribed around here.” Tweek’s voice squeaked as he uncontrollably yelled. 

“Sorry, but no.” Clyde tried to keep his own voice level, not wanting to piss the blond off. 

Tweek just shrugged, before popping one in his mouth and swallowing it dry. Clyde watched, clearly not amused. Luckily, Craig had appeared soon after the incident to fix the tense atmosphere. The black haired male sat down on the leather couch, motioning for Clyde and Tweek to join him. Clyde sat down first, making sure to leave enough room for the blond to sit by his boyfriend. Because Tweek was so small, there was actually room separating them. After they were all settled in and had picked a cheesy sci-fi movie to watch, Craig began digging through the pile of snacks that had been moved to the floor. Clyde eyed the food with an expression of want on his face, feeling hunger rumble through his stomach.

“What would you like, Clyde?” Craig suddenly asked.

“Oh- Uh, I’m good.” The brunette replied, feeling a terrible amount of anxiety rise as he thought about stuffing his face in front of the handsome male. 

Craig, however, wasn’t going to take any of that; especially after having to deal with Tweek all of the time. “Nah, I think you like… these.” Craig dislodged a box of cookies from the pile and handed them over to Clyde. 

The brunette blushed. All thoughts left his brain as Craig’s hand brushed against his. A tingle traveled down his spine as the black-haired male waited for him to eat one. So, reluctantly, he pulled the cardboard apart and reached inside to grab one of the chocolate-covered biscuits out of the box. He didn’t want to seem rude, afterall. Craig’s eyes didn’t leave him, even after he consumed the cookie. Odd. He finally glanced at the other male, meeting his dark eyes right away. Suddenly, Craig was leaning over farther, grabbing Clyde’s chin and pulling it up so that their lips could meet. Clyde instinctively pulled back. How could Craig do that with his boyfriend sitting right there?

Clyde stole a glance at the blond. He didn’t even seem to care as he watched the alien in the movie attack a terrorized human. To his surprise, he felt Craig pull his chin back over so that he was looking at him again. “You know, Clyde, I think that you look great. You could be bigger than Cartman, and you’d still look amazing.” Craig said, voice holding so much emotion. 

Clyde looked stunned. Today was just so weird. “Thank you.” He managed through the rush of his heartbeat in his ears, and the confusion clouding his mind. A dark red blush spread across his cheeks as the flattering words circulated his thoughts. 

Craig made a humming noise before walking back over to his spot next to Tweek. In the most nonchalant way, the noirette pulled Tweek into his lap, hugging him from behind. His thought from earlier was definitely correct: Craig had changed. 

As the movie continued onward, the pile of snacks that previously covered a large portion of the floor had diminished greatly. Clyde was so engrossed in the movie that he wasn’t even paying attention to the amount he was shoving into his mouth at a rapid pace. By the time the film ended, nothing but a box of salted crackers was remaining. It was when Craig stood up, stretched, and finally turned on the over-head light that Clyde noticed how full he felt. He shifted a little in his seat, embarrassed at the amount he had consumed, and self-conscious about how tight his clothes felt. 

Clyde glanced over at Tweek, who was sound asleep on the other end of the couch. He looked so small, his sharp collar bones jutting from the skin in an unhealthy looking way—it made Clyde feel sick. He looked down at himself, seeing how much room he took up, and how much bigger he had gotten. When was the last time he weighed himself? Probably at his most recent doctor’s physical, last year. His mom had probably already scheduled one of those routine appointments for this year, and was planning on dumping the date and time on him at the very last second. A spark of overwhelming anxiety washed over him.

“You know dude, you look like you need a good lay.”

The sudden presence of a deep voice almost directly in his ear pulled him from his own jumbled thoughts. It wasn’t just the manifestation of the voice that was jarring, but also the words that were spoken. “I-I need a what?” The brunette asked, voice showing the astonishment he was feeling.

“You look like you need something to relieve you. Y’know, something like sex.” Craig obviously thought that the topic was perfectly fine to be discussing with his friend, based on his tone. 

Clyde didn’t know what to say. Was he supposed to tell Craig that he’d never had sex before? Was he supposed to just go with it and tell him he would? Neither of those options sounded appealing, so he opted for just nodding his head slightly. Craig yawned, stumbling right over to the blond to try and awaken him. Normally, Clyde would've thought that Tweek would be a deep sleeper because of the sleep medication he was on, but apparently he wasn’t. With a loud yell, the small male was suddenly fully awake, his green eyes bulging from their sockets. “Craig! I told you not to do that!”

The tall male laughed, pulling a very tired looking Tweek from the piece of furniture. The blond was obviously disoriented as he attempted to keep his balance. If it wasn’t for his boyfriend standing there, he would’ve face-planted into the floor. “Let’s get you to bed.” Craig pulled the male along, guiding him up the stairs. Clyde could hear Tweek mumbling about how his mom would be worried if he didn’t come home, but Craig didn’t seem to be listening too well to the nonsense. 

With the two of them gone, the brunette was left to clean up the mess he’d made. He stuffed all of the empty containers into his arms, and then heaved himself to the ground floor. He was so out of breath by the time he’d made it to the garage, where he remembered their main trash can to be, that he had to lean against the doorframe for a minute. His heart almost left his body when he heard a female’s voice behind him. “Are you one of Craig’s new friends?” The voice asked.

Clyde turned around to see the very familiar Mrs. Tucker standing there, grabbing something from the fridge. Oh god, he hadn’t seen her since last year, when he hung out with Craig last. “Oh, no. It’s Clyde Donovan.” He replied, a tense chuckle leaving his lips. 

“Oh, Clyde! It’s nice to see you honey.” Her eyes lit up as she talked; she had always liked the brunette and thought he was a good influence for her son. 

That said, this didn’t overcome the fact that she barely recognized the male at all. His shirt clung to his body, looking like it would rip if he bent over, and his pants were very obviously digging into his midsection. The woman had seen her own children go through various weight fluctuations, but had never seen one put on that much in such a short amount of time. Clyde used to hang around the Tucker household constantly, along with Craig’s other usual friends, and the woman had formed a bond with him over that time. Needless to say, she missed having him around, and was terribly concerned at his current condition. 

This wasn’t going to make her treat him different, however; she would hate to make him feel bad. This is why she offered him to stay the night, not being able to handle him standing there, looking so out of breath and on the brink of tears. She couldn’t handle having to deal with him breaking down again, she’d already dealt with that many times in the past. 

In response to the offer, Clyde shook his head in decline. He hadn’t spent the night there forever, and the idea of it wasn’t very appealing. Maybe if Tweek wasn’t there he would’ve at least considered it, that way there’d at least be sufficient room for him and Craig. With that said, he grabbed his jacket from its hook, and then proceeded toward the black-haired male’s room, located on the other side of the house. With a light rap of his knuckles against the frame, he poked his head around the corner to see Craig grabbing a pile of blankets from the closet. Once hazel eyes met brown ones, the tall male was walking toward the door “Sorry I left you down there, I didn’t want to have to carry Tweek all the way here.” 

“Oh, no, you’re fine. I was just going to tell you that I’m heading home.” Clyde replied.

“Really? You can stay, you know? It looks pretty cold outside, and it’s dark now, I think.” 

‘Yeah, your mom also suggested that. I have to go home though, I have to finish some school work.” The brunette said, hoping that he sounded convincing enough. 

“Well, ok. We should do this sometime soon though. I had fun.” Craig said, a glint of an unidentifiable emotion in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’d like that. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” Clyde finally said, grabbing his keys from his pocket in preparation. 

With a couple of “goodbye’s” exchanged between the two, Clyde was finally exiting the house. The night air was quite refreshing, and although it was dark, it seemed more peaceful. The entirety of the drive was nice and relaxing, with the soothing music in the background and all. When he finally pulled into his driveway, both of his parents cars were parked there, and it was nearing dinner time. Even though he still felt sick, the idea of eating more made him feel a sort of light, fuzzy feeling. 

His parents didn’t say much to him, except for asking if he had gotten any issues from that “Broflovski boy”. Of course, Kyle was suspended, so his day was perfectly normal. With that said, his parents went back to eating, not even exchanging words between each other. This is usually how it always was at home: his parents wouldn’t say much to each other, with his mom usually at work for a long while, and his father usually holed up in the office. They also didn’t care to conversate with him too much—his dad would only do more than acknowledge him on special occasions. Once he finished his large portion of the meal, he decided that he needed to go shower and get ready for bed. 

The words and actions from the day before plagued Clyde as he tried to make it through class. He couldn’t help but think about a certain suggestion that Craig brought to his attention. Maybe he did need to get laid, he was almost eighteen, afterall. Throughout the day, he contemplated about who and where he could get sex. He knew that his body was probably the least appealing out of everyone at the school, but someone had to be that desperate, right? 

The second that the brunette walked into the cafeteria that day, an idea sparked in his mind. Kenny Mccormick was seated at the table, just like he’d been the other day. The blond, who had quite the reputation of sleeping with everyone, was the perfect person to ask about sex. For the first time in forever, the brunette slid next to Kenny, who was also seated next to Butters. Of course, the two were deep in conversation, but Clyde would have to stop that. 

With a clearing of his throat, the brunette began.”H-hey Kenny.”

The taller male was immediately turning toward him, a huge grin showing off his gaped and crooked teeth. “Clyde! How’ve you been, buddy?” Kenny said, way too enthusiastically. 

“Oh I’m good, how are you?” 

“I’m okay, just dealing with the usual drug industry nonsense.” The blond replied, casually.

“Yeah, tough market,” Clyde paused to give out a forced laugh before continuing. “I just- I have a few questions about something.”

“Ask up.” Kenny said, taking a big bite out of the sandwich that Butters had obviously supplied him with.

“It’s kind of embarrassing. I- well- I’ve been thinking that maybe I need to finally get out there, and, you know.” Clyde ended without really finishing his sentence.

“I gotchu Clyde,” Kenny dropped his voice to a whisper. “You wanna finally lose your v-card?” 

Clyde almost spit out the water he was drinking at the other male’s straight forward question. “Yeah.”

“I can set you up with someone, I know a ton of people who would be up for it.”

The brunette gave off a look of surprise. “But like, what about my body? You think that someone would have sex with me even though I look like this?”

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Of course. I actually know a couple of people who like bigger guys.”

Clyde’s cheeks heated up at the words, actually feeling a little bit of arousal because of them. “Ok. I- I just feel like it’s about time that I get some... experience.”

“Yeah, dude, it’s always good to have some release. Do you prefer girls or boys?”

Clyde looked perplexed at the question. The brunette had never actually thought about that before. However, the way he felt toward Craig was obviously a little more than admiration. For this situation, though, he felt it was safe to just go with a female. If his parents found out that he’d had sex with another male, they’d probably kick him out. It wasn’t like he was on good terms with his parents anyway, considering his relationship with his mother right now. “Uh. Girls, I guess.” He finally replied.

“Got it. When do you want me to tell them to be at your house?”

Clyde also hadn’t thought about that, either. His parents usually weren’t home until late anyway, so he just decided to plan for right after school at his house. Kenny reached into his pocket to grab out the old, busted up smart phone he had gotten from who knows where, and began tapping on its screen. “Alright, I’ll text you more details later, just make sure to remember that someone will be at your house around four, okay?” 

Clyde nodded at that, and Kenny wished him good luck before turning back toward Butters. After that was established, the brunette began feeling worried. What if something went wrong? What if the person that came over was someone who hated him? What if he wasn’t prepared?

The questions circulated through his mind, making him want the day to go by faster. Unfortunately for him, the day carried on at a snail’s pace. By the time he was back home, all he had time for was rushing into the shower, and making sure that he looked okay. Of course, he never thought that he looked okay, but at least he smelled good and had shaved. 

Time ticked by slowly, but eventually someone was pressing the doorbell, causing a loud ring to travel through the house. He rushed to the door, stopping by the hallway mirror to make sure that everything was in order before opening the door. His stomach dropped the second he saw the older girl standing there, her bristly brown hair and braces shining in the sunlight. Shelly Marsh. As if the situation couldn’t get any worse, the girl looked to be impatient and annoyed. “Clyde Donovan. Kenny sent me.” Her lisp was worse than anything he’d ever heard, and spit went flying from her mouth as she talked. 

“Y-yeah, come in.” As much as he wanted to back out now, he would probably get in more trouble if he turned the Shelly Marsh down. 

“Listen, clown, I don’t want to be here for any longer than possible. Show me to your room.” 

With a startled grimace, the brunette led her to his room, where she was immediately pushing him down onto the bed. “Let’s make this quick.”

Before he could protest, the girl was undoing his fly and forcing the way-too-tight pants down his legs. “Goddamn, where is your dick? You should be paying me for this, making me do all the work because you’re too fucking fat.”

The words stung, but Clyde just had to get through with it. If it wasn’t for stupid Craig suggesting that he do “it” the other night, he would’ve never gotten into such a situation. Only two seconds elapsed before Shelly too was pushing her own jeans down, revealing a surprisingly good body underneath. After that she removed her shirt, too, before climbing onto the other brunette. Without bothering to prepare herself, she was positioning herself on his dick, having a bit of trouble sitting down fully because his stomach was in the way. “Nng.” She moaned, once fully seated.

Clyde let out a very small groan at the feeling of warmth sliding down his dick. She hadn’t even bothered giving him a condom, obviously not caring enough to. This made the experience much more raw to say the least. After a second, she began to move up and down at a rapid pace, knowing that he wouldn’t last too long. A string of grunts left his lips; it didn’t feel pleasurable at all to him, more humiliating than anything. It took less time for him to burst into tears than it did for him to orgasm. At that, Shelly rode harder, making more mean comments at him for being such a “fat crybaby”. 

By the time he did cum, she was already climbing off of the bed, walking over to her clothes. “That was the worst sex I’ve ever had, hands down.” 

After Clyde had come down from the post-orgasm high, the only thing he could think of was begging her to not tell anyone what they’d done. “Please don’t tell anyone, Shelly, I’d never hear the end of it!” He bawled. 

“Oh my god, Donovan. Of course I’m going to tell everyone, this was way too much of a rollercoaster ride not to. I’m especially going to vent to that fuck face Kenny for setting me up with you in the first place.” She scowled, before grabbing her bag and exiting the room. 

Clyde, still halfway naked and covered in his own bodily fluid, couldn’t stop crying. The only thing he could think about was how stupid and moronic it was for him to think that he could have subpar sex with someone while being at that weight. He ended up crying for so long that he eventually worked himself into such a state that he retched violently over the side of his bed. The thought of “ending it all” suddenly popped into his thought stream. If he could achieve the peacefulness of death so easily, why hadn’t he done it yet? With that in mind, he got up to slide his pants back on, sniffling loudly in the process, and walked over to the bathroom. His mind blanked as he reached for the bottle of expired spironolactone, one that his dad had probably forgotten to throw away. With a pop, the lid was off, and his thoughts were running once again.


	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next installment, which is a little less angsty. Let me just start by saying, I’m not good at writing porn, so that’s why the sex scene is so short and void of detail. Also, this is not my favorite chapter but hopefully, it's not too bad. Thank you to the readers, commenters, and everyone who's given a Kudo.

Clyde’s POV

The throbbing in his head was incessant, adding to his uncomfortable state. The pills were flushed down the toilet what felt like hours ago, and now he was left with the aftermath of a terrible situation and the self-loathing thoughts floating through his mind. There were still tears rolling down his cheeks, and he had come close to hyperventilating several times. For now, his breathing was under control, but it had taken a great effort to achieve that. He was seated on the floor, directly in front of the tub, trying to stay composed. How has this year come to this conclusion? Instead of putting the blame on the people who were making his life a literal hell, he put the blame on himself. 

“Why would I be so impulsive? How do I make people like me again? How am I going to set foot in school again? What do I do?” Were just a few of the questions he was asking himself. 

Through the tirade of words, his eyes found themselves focusing on a pink, women's razor placed on the edge of the tub. It’s five blades seemed to shine in the fluorescent light, begging him to pick it up. A sob escaped his chapped lips as he reached forward to obtain the object. He felt its weight in his hand, as he broke down a little more. In one fluid motion, he was sliding it straight down the exposed flesh of his arm, watching as the blood seeped to the surface of the shallow cut. Sure, it burned, but isn’t that what he wanted? What he deserved for being so vile?

Soon enough, there was a little patch of the red lines, overlapping the stretch marks that were already there. He could almost hear the voices of Stan, Kyle, and Shelly telling him to keep going. His vision was blurry as he just stared into space for half a second. He could still feel the stickiness of cum on his skin, wishing that he could cut the whole area off, separate it from the rest of his body. Still, he couldn’t be upset about the sex or person that took his virginity. He asked for it, even made Kenny go through the trouble to get him someone he thought would be into a “bigger guy”. He should have known that sex was designed for only the best bodies, bodies that held the possibility of pleasuring others. It almost made him feel bad for Shelly. 

His brain felt like it was in overload, too many emotions swirling around in it. He wished that he had someone to call, anyone that would care for what he had to say. The only two people he knew would be there for him were Token and Craig. The wealthy male, however, was most certainly grounded and didn’t have his phone. It would be a waste to try and contact him. As for Craig, he was probably busy attending to Tweek, who had basically become his full-time job. With a miserable sigh, he let the razor fall from his grip as he tried evening his breathing out. Without thinking, he glanced at his watch, seeing that it was past six now. 

At that observation, he came to a belated realization. Today is Thursday, so tomorrow is Friday. That means that the next day would be the last of the week. With this in mind, he started thinking of different excuses he could present to his mother so that he could avoid attending school the next day. He had a headache and had also almost thrown up. He formed what he thought was a pretty solid excuse for not going to school, something that even his strict mother would be able to sympathize with. He stayed on the tiled floor until he heard the sound of a car door shutting. Out of everything in the world that he didn’t want to deal with at the moment, his parents were near the top of the list. However, going to school the next day sounded like a way worse idea. 

Still feeling upset and disoriented, he washed his face and wiped the cum from underneath his clothes. He wanted to shower altogether, but he didn’t really have the motivation for that, either. With calculated movements, he opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Whoever was there was obviously still downstairs, the rustling noises gave that away. The first thing he did once he was at the first floor was enter the kitchen and open the fridge, purely out of habit. With a frown, he closed it, and then started toward the noise of things being moved around. He entered his dad’s office, but found no trace of the older man. If he wasn’t in there, then that meant that his mom must have been there. 

He then entered the entryway, where he found the flustered woman removing her hat and coat. “Clyde. What do you need?” 

Typical Mrs. Donovan. “I-I’m not feeling good. I don’t think I should go to school tomorrow.”

She inspected him before replying. “What do you mean you’re not feeling good, you look healthy to me. Well, at least illness-wise.”

It was the offhanded things his parents would say that had slowly grated away at his self-esteem.Today had finally shaved away the last remaining bit, leaving him with none at all. “I have a headache. I also threw up.” Clyde replied, fidgeting with his shirt sleeve in the process.

“You probably ate too much again.” The brown-haired woman sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“No. I haven’t eaten anything. Just, please let me stay home tomorrow, I feel terrible.”

The middle-aged woman took in her son’s appearance, noticing how red his face and eyes were. She overlooked these before, assuming that he was just being lazy and didn’t want to go. Now, she couldn’t deny that he looked sick. “Fine, Clyde, I’ll let you stay home for one day. But listen, this is your one day to stay home. This will not become a trend, got it?”

Clyde nodded fast, thanking the universe for giving him this one temporary out. Before he could fully rejoice, however, his mom was dropping a bomb on him. “However, if you’re going to stay home for being sick, you have to go to the doctor. I’ll set up an appointment for tomorrow afternoon.” 

The brunette’s eyes widened. “I don’t think that a doctor will be able to do anything. I think that I just don’t feel good because I’ve been stressed.”

The woman raised her eyebrows. Finally, with an air of defeat, she replied. “Fine, whatever, stay here and do nothing like you do so well, but only because you have an appointment in a couple of weeks, anyway. Also, if I find out that you’re skipping school and aren’t actually sick, I will ground you, keep that in mind.” With that, she slipped past him, probably going to put her stuff away in her room. 

Clyde really dodged two bullets there. He just wished that people would treat him with more respect. He tried so hard to be good, to not be mean or hurt anyone’s feelings, but at times like this it felt like the effort was for nothing. At least the year prior, he was in sports, which automatically made people like him more and treat him well. This year, he wasn’t in sports or any special clubs, and everyone acted like he was no one except for a “fat kid”. It hurt.

With that situation sorted out, he receded back to his room. He didn’t want to be alone, like before, but there was nothing he could do about that. He would just have to settle for being by himself and dealing with his emotions without any support. At least he’d stopped crying.

Kenny POV

A gruffy older man held up the disguised bag of chalky white powder to the light, scrutinizing it. The blond was standing beside him, waiting for him to just hand over the cash already. Before he could even get the chance, the quiet atmosphere was intruded on by Kenny’s ringtone blaring on his phone. “Shut that off, you’re going to get us caught.” The older man hissed.

Kenny shot him a look before answering the call. He thought that it was one of his buyers, but was actually a mad-sounding female with a heavy speech impediment. “Kenny McCormick! I have something to discuss with you!”

Shit, it was Shelly. She must have not liked the hookup, huh? Kenny thought, before hanging up on her. Although the consequences of doing so may be worse than anything imaginable, he didn’t care. He couldn’t risk getting in trouble and taken to jail for running his “business”. 

“Sorry dude, angry girlfriend.” Kenny laughed, cringing inwardly at the lie. 

“Whatever,” The man fished in his pocket until he located the stack of cash. “Here. I’ll text you when I need some more.”

Kenny nodded before getting the hell out of there. With the possibility of the girl calling him back, he knew that he wanted to get as far away from his “meeting spot” as quickly as possible. The outside air was cold enough to break past the barrier of his parka, cutting right into his skin. His breath was coming out in short gasps as he ran down the road toward the shitty neighborhood he called home. Before he made it to his house, he stopped at the corner party store. He didn’t even bother scoping the place out; he’d been getting his illegal substances from there since the beginning of time. He strided toward the back, grabbing the cheapest energy drink on the shelf, then proceeded toward the cashier. He sat his stuff on the counter then pulled the fake id he’d been using for the past two years from his torn pocket. “Your usual tobacco?”

“Yeah, and a pack of the menthols, please.” Kenny grabbed one singular bill from the stack, making sure that no one saw how much money he actually had.

“Alright. That’s gonna be seventeen dollars even, blondie.” The mid-thirty year old man told him, leaning against the counter in an exhausted manner. 

Kenny handed him the bill, ignoring the nickname the other male always called him. With his change in hand, and a plastic bag with his bad habits inside, he made his way back to the house. He started walking slower as he re-dialed Shelly’s number, dreading the conversation even though he didn’t know what it would entail. After hearing two cycles of the ringing tone, the witch finally answered. “Kenny! Why the fuck did you hang up!” 

“I was in the middle of a business meeting.” 

“Don’t make excuses, I don’t have the time for them.” Her voice was just as sharp as it had always been.

“I-I’m not. You said you had something to discuss. What is it?” At this point, he was getting irritable, an emotion he hardly ever felt. 

“I want to talk about that clown you set me up with!” 

“Clyde? What happened?” Kenny immediately felt apprehensive.

“What do you mean what happened! You said he was just a little overweight, not three-hundred pounds!” 

“Uh,” The blond felt stunned, any form of words disappearing. “He’s a good guy.” Were the only words he could think of.

Ignoring the male’s words completely, she continued her tirade. “Who do you think I am, a careless whore!? You’re just lucky that I went through with it!” 

“You told me that you liked heavy dudes, what was I supposed to think!” Kenny yelled back into the phone, before grabbing the non-menthol pack of cigarettes from the bag, leaving the menthols for when he got the chance to meet with Kyle again.

“I like bigger guys! What I don’t like are guys who can’t get anyone else because they are too fat and ugly!” The girl almost sounded like she was having a temper tantrum.

“Don’t say that about him! He probably thought that you would at least accept his body for what it is!”

“Shut the fuck up, Kenny! I’m going to ruin you when I get the chance!” With that threat, the angry teenager hung up, leaving Kenny feeling out of order. 

The blond felt a bit of shame in the pit of his stomach. He should have been smart enough to know that Shelly was too mean to be able to handle Clyde. The brunette had always been a hot mess of a mentally-unstable person. Kenny could remember all of the instances when he would need to be escorted from class for becoming hysterical over the most stupid things. It used to annoy him, but now he just felt bad. 

He had smoked his cigarette down to the filter, so he threw it to the ground, stomping it out. He was finally nearing his house now, fully ready to throw himself into his bed the second he arrived. Once he set foot on the gravel lining the driveway, he stuffed the plastic bag in his front pocket, and readied the house key. The immediate scent of cheap vodka and weed hit his nostrils, almost teasingly. Without stopping in any of the other rooms, he headed toward his room. He could hear his parents fighting in the kitchen, screaming at each other like usual. He didn’t care though, he just wanted to hit a joint a few more times and face plant into his pillow. The door groaned as he opened it, and squeaked as he closed it. He removed the bag and rest of his things from his pocket, storing them safely in one of the various holes cluttering his walls. A joint was settled on his windowsill from earlier that morning, and he picked it up, lighting it immediately. In that moment, he decided that weed was his favorite substance—it always made the world slightly more bearable.

Stan’s POV

“I know, sweety, I miss you too.” The football leader exhaled.

“I don’t know what to do Stan, I just feel so restless.” Kyle, being the sensitive seventeen year old he was, sniffled into the other line. 

“Well, what about after our parents are asleep, I come pick you up and we go somewhere?” Stan asked, just wanting his boyfriend to feel better.

“Ugh, I want to Stan, I really do, but you know that my mom would kill me if she found out I sneaked out.”

“I know, babe, but you know I wouldn’t let that happen. We’d be back before she’d even get the chance to realize you weren’t there.” Stan, himself, was beginning to sound desperate.

The redhead was silent for a moment before finally replying. “Pick me up at twelve, but I swear to god, if I get in trouble I’m going to be mad for a long time.” 

Stan felt a smile light up on his face, ecstatic that he had finally convinced Kyle to do something else that he wasn’t supposed to. This had become quite a trend: the black-haired male would suggest that his boyfriend engage in something reckless, which the latter would refuse at first, but in the end the black-haired snake would end up getting his way with persuasive words and sexual innuendos. To the athlete, this seemed completely normal, but to a smart individual like Kyle, it almost felt like Stan liked making him feel powerless. Being a teenager, however, made both of them careless in that way. 

After finally uttering words of parting, Stan hopped up from his bed, going to take a quick shower. Inside the tiled stall, he thought about his boyfriend. The pretty red hair, flashing green eyes, and perfectly fuckable body were all things he thought about while immersed in the hot water. However, with the promise of seeing his baby boy that day, he averted his thoughts to other things. Before he could stop them, thoughts of a random blond were entering his mind. He didn’t have particular feelings for the jittery blond, but did think about him sometimes when alone. There was just something so appetizing about such a small teenager like him, someone so innocent. Normally, Butters would’ve popped into his mind when thinking about things like that, but that ship had sailed. His middle school obsession with Stotch had ended long ago, and now he was more focused on the likes of Tweek.

Before he knew it, uncontrollable thoughts of Kyle and Tweek hit his thought stream. Them both naked and begging to be fucked by the almighty Stan. The black-haired male’s ego rivaled anyone else’s in the school because of the constant praise he received. It was at the point of ridiculousness. Before he was too far gone, he turned the water cold, an intense shiver halting his movements. With a couple more passes of the washcloth over his skin, he was finished. He turned the water off and picked his towel up, wrapping it around his waist. Before forgetting, he did his “pre-sex routine” which consisted of shaving his face and staring at his abs in the mirror for longer than anticipated. A routine scientifically proven to satisfy the vain.

After stepping out of the steamy room, he went to actually get dressed in his own space. With that all taken care of, he was left to busy himself until his parents went to bed. This was something that didn’t take too much time because Randy would drink himself to sleep early enough, and Sharon, being the stay-at-home mom she was, would quickly pass out while reading a mystery novel. Shelly herself was out with a couple of her “friends” for the night, so he didn’t have to worry about her ruining his plans. 

He leaned back in his bed, thinking of taking a nap before dinner. With the sound of rushing cars on the slick road outside, he fell into a deep sleep. By the time he woke up, it was quite late, way past dinner time. With a glance at the alarm clock on his night stand, he was able to make out that the time was past eight at night. He sleepily maneuvered out from underneath the bed covers, rubbing at his eyes. With a stretch, he opened the door and headed to the downstairs. His mom, as he predicted, was seated at the couch, a book in her hands and a cup of boxed pinot noir on the living room table. She obviously heard the stomping noises of her son, and looked up from her novel. “Stan, honey, your dinner is in the fridge, you can reheat it in the microwave.” She sipped from the wine glass.

Stan croaked out an “okay” before heading toward the kitchen. He still had a little under four hours until he could sneak out, so he decided to eat his dinner. As an athlete, it was necessary for him to eat the entire plate of food in under five minutes, before foraging for something else to eat. Although he ate so much, he stayed perfectly chiseled and toned, not even an ounce of fat showing on his body. It was an effect of constantly working out, something that he hadn’t gotten the chance to do yet that day. After wolfing down some sliced ham and a handful of peanuts, he went back up to his lair. He wanted to work out, but he’d already taken a shower, so he just opted to do a set or two of simple floor workouts. 

The night had finally begun, replacing the evening. The moon was bright and full as Stan quietly slipped out the back door. He’d already checked to make sure that his parents were sound asleep, and grabbed his keys from the counter. Outside, the air was cold and dry, smelling of fresh snow. He sauntered over to his truck, a hand-me-down from his sister. It was older, and had rust on the bottom, but still worked well enough. He slipped inside, pushing the key into the ignition and hearing the engine softly roar. It was loud, but not enough to make a scene. After having done that, he quickly pulled away from the house, heading toward the Broflovski residence. 

He put the vehicle into park a block away from his destination, trying to keep the possibility of his boyfriend getting caught as low as possible. He sat there for ten minutes, on the cusp of getting worried, when he spotted the short redhead running through the light snow. He hadn’t seen him in a few days, and had to suppress a gasp as he caught eye of the bruises adorning his face. Stan stepped out of the driver’s side, holding his arms open wide for Kyle to jump into. This is only something high school lovers would do. 

The fast-paced breaths of the redhead tickled Stan’s neck, and he squeezed the male harder. “I missed you so much.” 

Stan was sure that he felt the other male shivering in his hold, so he kissed his head and then led them both over to the vehicle. The heat was on full blast as they buckled their seatbelts, and Stan drove them away from the neighborhood. Kyle was looking out the window, admiring the white snow collecting on the roofs of houses. Stan reached over and grabbed the redhead’s lithe hand, holding it as he drove. Kyle smiled, loving the affection per usual. 

The drive lasted a short while, no words being exchanged, just feelings of young love emanating inside the car. When, at last, they pulled into none other than the county park, Kyle was shooting Stan a confused look. What were they going to do at the park, in the middle of the night, when the weather was cold and snowy? The smaller male found the answer to the question rather quickly when Stan reached over and gave him a deep kiss. The motions speed up, both of them desperate to feel each other. Before they could get too far, Stan was getting out and then entering the more spacious back seat. The redhead followed suit, sliding into the back without even getting out. 

Immediately, clothes were being removed, flung anywhere that was out of the way. Originally, Kyle was seated on top, but Stan couldn’t handle that, so he flipped them around. He kissed the other’s mouth with fervor, licking around the metal braces to get access inside. They had sex multiple times a week, being the horny teenagers they were, but were still kind of clumsy at times. Stan used to take it easy on his boyfriend, not wanting to hurt his fragile body, but now he liked it rough, liked hearing Kyle scream as loud as possible.

A bite was sucked into the pale skin of the redhead’s neck, turning a dark color. Kyle was instantly moaning and writhing at just the touch of Stan’s lips on his skin. Deciding to take it up a notch, the bigger male moved to bigger and better things: Kyle’s ass. It was the most delicious thing Stan had ever laid his eyes on, one that he’d bet was the best in the town. The ginger’s ass was perfectly round, and had a very cute splattering of light freckles on it, just like the rest of his body. Stan kneaded it in his hands, loving how soft and pliant it was. Kyle let out little mewling noises, loving when Stan would do stuff like that. 

The intensity increased as a bottle of lube was produced, the kind made specifically for sensitive skin. Stan didn’t waste time squeezing some onto his fingers. Before he was able to get to that sweet ass, he scooched Kyle forward and made him rest his legs on his broad shoulders. With that, he probed his fingers around the hole that he knew so well before going ahead and pushing two fingers in. His hole had been stretched quite a lot, Kyle’s fascination with the biggest dildos on the market most likely being the culprit. This made for easy and quick prep.

After the two fingers had done their job, Stan inserted a third. Heat radiated off of their bodies, steaming the windows up. If it wasn’t for this, any bystander walking by might’ve been able to see them. The pleasure of being close to each other was making them both hard, a sensation that they needed to entertain. With shaky movements, Stan peppered Kyle with a few more kisses, then moved away so he could line himself up with the other male’s hole. Kyle gritted his teeth for about three seconds before he was moaning again. Stan’s dick was a bit bigger than average, but the redhead could take it. 

Stan was panting as he pushed his dick as far as it would go, hitting Kyle’s prostate in the process. Kyle screamed, gripping Stan’s shoulders like his life depended on it. The black-haired male pushed Kyle’s thighs apart so he could get the best access, making sure to slam full force into the opening. Tears were cascading from the redhead’s eyes as they fucked, easily becoming overstimulated. Luckily, the feeling didn’t last too long because he was coming, way quicker than Stan. It took a few more rough thrusts for the athletic male to finally orgasm, sending a heatwave through Kyle’s body. The afterglow, however, always lasted longer for the redhead, his body practically vibrating with content. 

Stan finally pulled out after a moment of catching his breath, letting the cum leak out like an extremely slow waterfall. Before the male underneath him could move or begin to pull his clothes back on, Stan was grabbing the emergency pile of napkins from the glovebox, using them to clean the mess up. After that, Stan began getting his shirt and coat, putting them on first, then jeans and shoes. Kyle looked absolutely wrecked as Stan watched him grab up the green sweater he always wore, the one that the taller male said brought out his emerald eyes. 

“What do you want to do now, do you want me to take you home, or do you want to do something else?” Stan asked, walking back around to the front seat.

“Um, I don’t know. I’ve already sneaked out, so I might as well make it worth my time,” Kyle pushed a red curl behind his ear. “Do you have anything in mind?”

Stan looked to be thinking for a moment. “Well, I know that Eric was having a small party at his house tonight, one that probably has some relaxing activities.”

“Oh. Cartman. If you really want to, I guess.”

Stan smiled before announcing that it was “free drinks,” and then putting the car in gear so they could leave. The Cartman residence was on the other side of town, so that gave them ample time to talk about everything going on. “Your face looks pretty bad.” Stan started, not filtering his words as usual.

“Yeah, I got punched like ten times, dude.” The redhead retorted, irritated that his boyfriend dared to mention it. He wasn’t so confident with his looks at the moment. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant like, that we should get back at those freaks for doing it.”

Kyle snorted. “We should. I don’t even care about Token, I just want to get back at that fat piece of shit.” 

Just having Stan near him caused a tidal wave to wash away all of his morals and normally agreeable attitude. “I don’t care about him either, I care more about Clyde. I used to just hate Cartman, but now that there’s someone else, someone who’s more annoying and hideous, I feel like Eric is closer to being on the same level as us.” He laughed at the last part, some black strands falling into his eyes.

“Same. I want to bash his face in so bad. Do you remember when he told the teacher on me a couple years ago for calling Jimmy a disabled retard? I’m still mad about that.”

“I remember that. You got detention for like, a whole week, right?” Stan asked, the memory resurfacing.

“Yeah, I did. My mom was pissed!”

Stan clutched the wheel, anger rippling through him. “Something he did that still bothers me to this day is how, on the first day of school, he decided to sit directly in front of us. I couldn’t see the teacher at all, and I’m taller than him!” 

Kyle rolled his eyes. “And he acts like he doesn’t deserve getting bullied. He’s practically asking for it.”

“Yeah. I say we get one of the seniors to do a number on him. He’ll think twice before being a rat. Also, it might motivate him to lose some weight because, damn, I don’t think that the school can afford a lift up the stairs for him.” 

They were both laughing now, hard and uncontrollably. “Or a desk big enough!” Kyle blurted.

They were both hysterical at the words. It was nice for them to be together again. After a minute passed, they were both cooled down. Cartman’s house was finally in sight, and they were ready to get out and drink all of their negative feelings away.


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6 is here, even though it's a little late and a little shorter than I'd like it to be. I know that I'm putting a lot of angst into this story, but that's just what I like writing. Hopefully it isn't too much. Anyway, thanks for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos.

Clyde’s POV

Thursday bled into Friday, a day where he was completely alone and basically forced to stay in bed and act “sick”. Sure, Mrs. Donovan was at work, but Clyde knew better than to trust that she wouldn’t find out from the neighbors or someone if he left. He thought about that aspect before deciding that as long as he didn’t get in his car and leave, he should be safe. Furthermore, the second he was awake, he set his mind on trying to keep his eating under control. If he was going to lose weight, he was going to have to try, and if he was going to try, he might be required to break some rules.

The kitchen was full of healthy food mixed in with the bad. His eyes landed on a pack of cookies, halfway open and definitely tempting him. Of course, those were out in the open, probably left there by his dad. His mother tried to be as strict as possible, but his eating disorder would never let her win. Today, however, was going to be different, he just knew it would be. Instead of letting the sight of the sugary dessert distract him, he practically lunged for a bright red apple that was close by. It was sweet, so it might take his mind off of the cookies, right? 

He washed the fruit in the sink, then proceeded to cut it up on a plate. His mind was racing, trying to think of something else that would be healthy that was low calorie and would also sustain him. He opened the pantry, gaze landing on a jar of peanut butter. He turned the container around, searching for the nutritional label. With a distasteful frown, he placed the jar back on the shelf. One-hundred and ninety calories? For peanut butter? He then went on to the fridge, not having much luck with the pantry. Oh god, there was a piece of leftover cake on one of the shelves, brought home from a recent birthday party. He reached for it before swearing at himself. He then opened one of the clear drawers, picking up a stalk of celery and shutting the fridge door. 

He got the correct knife and cut a few pieces from the vegetable before putting the rest back. His plate now had an apple and a bit of celery. He just needed a protein now. This was a pretty difficult task until he opened the right cabinet door and discovered a couple bottles of pre-made protein shakes that his mom drank frequently. He examined a chocolate one before deciding that it was healthy enough. The whole process was one that he had done before, just a long while ago, when he was still participating in sports. 

He took his “healthy” meal and proudly went over to the dining room table, setting everything down carefully. He didn’t sit there very often, his family not really the type to have the time to eat together or at home. The chair creaked loudly as he sat down, his back immediately aching at the pressure. He slowly began picking at the food, trying to convince himself that he was enjoying it. Everything was going okay until he bit into the rough celery. It tasted mostly like water but also had the notorious nasty vegetable taste. He almost gagged as he ate it. He wouldn’t stop, however, he was determined to make today different from the rest. 

He absorbed the rest of the meal, before disposing of the trash and trekking back up the stairs. His face was red as he sat on his bed, picking up his smartphone and scrolling through social media. He tried to not go on there too much, the fatphobic content always tore him up. This time though, he wanted to see it; he wanted to get the much-needed motivation from it. A particular post of someone making fun of an overweight person caught his attention. His thoughts were rampant, his feelings of sadness being replaced with ones of inspiration. I need to watch this. If I don’t lose weight, nobody will like me. Craig and Token will probably stop talking to me eventually. I can’t lose them. 

The person in the post was probably around the same size as him; she looked seventeen and was modeling a simple outfit. She was doing nothing wrong, even had a smile on her face, yet, someone had to rip her apart for seeming to be confident in her body. Before Clyde could begin to feel terrible for her and himself, he was scrolling on. The rest of the people he saw were rich, in shape, and smiling. This added the needed fuel to his fire. 

A rush of motivation rippled through his body and an idea popped up in his head. This is something that could only occur on a somewhat good day for him. Without thinking twice, he was taking off his tee-shirt and sweatpants and began digging through his dresser for some workout clothes. All of them were from past years, worn out and a couple of sizes too small. He grabbed the biggest looking shirt and pulled it over his head. It was awfully tight and didn’t cover all of his midsection, but it’d work for now. He then searched for a pair of workout pants that were stretchy enough. A black pair of stretchy-material sweatpants looked to be his best bet. He struggled to get them up, huffing loudly as he fought to get them over his thighs. He wasn’t exactly bottom-heavy, but a lot of his weight settled in his stomach and legs.

The waistband was cutting into him like a sharp blade, but he decided that it didn’t matter; today was the start of a healthier lifestyle. He then threw on an old pair of tennis shoes and his warmest coat and made his way back downstairs. Luckily his food had digested by now, eliminating the possibility of getting stomach cramps. Before he could head out, he grabbed a bottle of water and made sure that he had his inhaler. He surveyed the outdoors, making sure that no one was lurking around. Normally, just the idea of going outside and exercising would freak him out, but some random force of determination was keeping that at bay. 

A gust of wind hit him, his nose beginning to redden. It was freezing. An intrusive thought about going back into the safe house entered his stream of thought, but he brushed it away. He stepped onto the sidewalk, one that he’d seen plenty of people walk up and down on. He began walking, deciding that it would be best to warm-up. Although he wasn’t going very fast he tired quickly. His breath was coming out in short rasps and, finally, he decided to take out his breathing device. Stopping at a wooden bench, he sat down and tried to get his breathing under control. He puffed on the inhaler, feeling a bit of relief by the second inhale. How had he gotten so bad so fast? 

A memory of last year surfaced. He was joking around with Token and Craig in the boy’s locker room. They were all shirtless, sweaty, and overheated after running two miles on the track. This was something that was required of them for football practice. Suddenly, Stan was waltzing in to interrupt their conversation. “Hey, guys. Coach wants us in the workout room for a weigh-in.” 

The three of them groaned, always dreading weigh-ins. After washing up a bit, they were making their way to the large room, filled with students and exercise equipment. The older man was already standing there, hands on his hips. “I see that we’re all here now,” he eyed the three tardy males, raising his eyebrows. “We’re going to do this alphabetically.”

The man was then calling out a few names that started with the letter “a” and ushering them over to the scale. Clyde ignored them all, worrying too much about when it was his turn. He was the first out of his friends to walk up to the scale. It looked just as intimidating as ever. The brunette removed his shoes and stepped onto it. The coach was frowning as he kept pushing the little thing on the top over more and more increasingly larger numbers. Clyde had to suppress a gasp as it passed the one-hundred and seventy mark. He’d never been this heavy. 

Finally, his weight was being recorded on paper: One-hundred and eighty-nine pounds. “Clyde, you get bigger every time, and our quarterback position is already filled, we don’t need another one. If this keeps happening we may need to have you take a break from the team. You do know that the football weight limit at our school is two-hundred and fifty pounds, right?”

Clyde shook his head, blushing furiously. The older man then told him to take his seat, motioning to the next victim. The brunette tried to keep his mind off of the embarrassing incident as he watched Craig walk to the scale. The noirette had no anxiety as he stepped onto the small platform. As usual, the number stopped at a low one-hundred and fifty. It would be better if all that weight wasn’t pure muscle. 

The memory faded after that, fulfilling its purpose at reminding him of where his downfall began. He sighed, finally ready to get back on the sidewalk. The day had been going by so slow, but he couldn’t complain; at least he wasn’t at school. As he slowly made his way back to his house, his thoughts died down a bit. He decided to just try and enjoy being outside for once. He observed his neighbor’s houses, just as big and fancy as ever. His house was more on the middle-class spectrum, but was still nicer than any of his friend’s houses except for Token, of course. The sky was a nice light blue color, and the sun was actually out for once.

The brunette stopped for a moment. It was so pretty outside. He hadn’t been out in a long time, mostly too tired to. The air was cold, and the grass was frozen over, but it was still nice. As he neared his house, he felt relieved. After checking the time, he concluded that it was early afternoon. He’d only been out for like, twenty minutes, but that was still a good amount of time for him. As he walked up the concrete driveway, he pulled his house key from his pocket and pushed it into its slot in the doorknob. He still couldn’t believe how different everything was this year compared to last as he removed his coat and shoes in the foyer. Change could happen so fast.

After he was back into some normal clothes, he took a break. His brain was telling him to get something to eat, but he opted to ignore it. I don’t really need to eat. I’ve done so well today. He concluded before heading over to his bed. He was sweating a bit, the excursion outside was enough to cause his body to do so. He sat laid back in the bed and grabbed his PlayStation controller. He clicked on a zombie-killing game and began playing it. Soon enough, his mother was knocking on his door. “Come in.”

The woman looked frazzled as she asked him how he felt. All though he wanted to believe that she was asking out of care for him, he knew that she wasn’t. She was most likely just checking to make sure that she didn’t have to make a doctor’s appointment. Although she wasn’t particularly fond of her only child, she wasn’t neglectful. After the brunette had assured her that he felt okay, he went back to playing the game. Having a conversation without the woman berating him was refreshing, although she still asked him to do the dishes after dinner. 

Playing a game that he enjoyed had somehow made the time go by faster, making him feel even more accomplished. He had only had a small number of calories and his stomach was growling but, at the same time, it made him feel amazing. Just the fact that he’d barely ate anything made his whole outlook on life better, even though it was bad for his body to deprive it. After another hour of playing the game, he switched the console off and got out of bed. The smell of dinner made him feel euphoric. As he sat down at the dinner table, a plate of steamed vegetables and baked chicken breast was pushed in front of him. Usually, he would pretend to eat it and then binge on junk food after his parents were asleep, but today he actually ate it. 

His mother shot him a look of surprise, but it didn’t last as long as he’d liked it to. His dad was still in the office, so he ate with the woman for once. She didn’t say anything except to remind him to clean up the kitchen. After finishing the bland meal, he was obeying her request. Because she was so on top of housework, he only had to rinse the dishes off and place them in the dishwasher. After doing that, he was free to go back to his room.

He sat down at his desk, feeling awfully bored. He wanted to do something, just had no idea as to what to do. This is about the time that his mind began wandering to the contents of the kitchen. His stomach didn’t feel nearly as full as he wished it did, and the nagging feeling of hunger was hitting him hard. He decided to put a show on his TV, hoping that it would be enough to distract him. The whole time he watched it, the intrusive thoughts were running through his head: “Just go get something to eat, you’re hungry.” Or, “Remember those cookies on the counter? They’re your favorites.”

He tried to shake the volcano of thoughts and emotions. In a weak attempt to try and take his mind off of the thoughts, he grabbed his gaming controller again. Before he could even try to reason with himself, the volcano was erupting. Excuses ran rampant through his mind as he did the walk of shame downstairs. His parents were both in their room, probably winding down for the night. He crept over to the pantry and opened it up. He grabbed the first thing he saw: the full package of cookies. Without any regret at the moment, he began shoving cookie after cookie into his mouth. They were so sweet and gave him a positive rush of emotion.

His destructive behavior continued after that as he ate more and more. He hadn’t had an episode like this in quite a while, so even after he was completely stuffed, he continued to eat. His mother had gone shopping after work that day and had stocked the house with a good amount of food. The brunette sat down at the table as he shoved handfuls of chips down his throat. It was like he was numb to the world whenever he did this, and he was eating so quickly that he wasn’t even tasting anything. 

By the time he was done, he’d been eating for thirty minutes straight. It took a second for him to come down from the initial high, the perfect amount of time for him to notice how sick he was and to have enough time to run into the bathroom. He practically crumbled onto the tiled floor as his body rejected the ridiculous amount of food that he just consumed in such a short period of time. Tears sprung into his eyes as he violently threw up into the toilet, his whole body convulsing. This was the first time that he’d ever eaten enough to actually get sick from it. 

As he finished, he leaned back against the wall, a miserable sob escaping his throat. He’d done so well until now. He thought that he’d finally be able to fix himself. His stomach still felt painfully tight as he washed up. He felt too drained to wallow in pity, so he tried his best to clean himself up, and then collapsed on his bed. Guilt ate at him as he dialed a very familiar number. 

Craig’s POV

The black-haired male had finally managed to get Tweek to bed, a task that was nearly impossible some days. He smiled at the small snoring noises coming from the blond. With a kiss, he was removing the head from his lap and moving toward the bathroom. He was about to relieve himself when the loud noise of his ringtone was bursting through the door. With a curse, he was zipping his jeans up and running to grab the cellphone. He was about to decline the caller until he realized the number. “Hello, Clyde, is everything okay?”

All Craig could hear was sniffling for the whole expanse of a minute. “Hello?”

“Sorry for bothering you.” Finally came the brunette’s scratchy voice. 

“Dude, it’s like ten, what’s up?” Craig’s irritated voice asked.

“I just- I need to talk to someone.”

Craig sighed. “Do you need me to come over?”

“No. I just want to talk.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind coming over if you need me to.” Craig finally got his attitude under control, feeling bad for snapping at his friend.

“I mean- if you want to. I’m sorry.” Clyde sounded so unhappy.

“It’s okay. I’ll be over in five.” After Craig had confirmed that with his friend, he started getting ready to leave. 

Just as he was opening the bedroom door, he heard Tweek squirm. “Craig? Where are you going?” Tweek’s soft, groggy voice asked.

Craig walked back over to his boyfriend, petting his hair as he replied. “I’m just going to a friend’s house, sweety. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

Tweek may have been a pill-popping mess, but he was still terribly cute and sensitive when he was tired. “Okay.” He replied, letting Craig tuck him back in.

Once that was all taken care of, Craig was free. The drive was fast, the teenager’s reckless driving habit part of the reason. Clyde’s house was dark as he pulled into the driveway. He finished parking, then cut the engine and walked over to the door, where he had been informed to meet up at. The brunette was standing on the other side, conveniently waiting for his friend to arrive. After they had moved to the brunette’s bedroom was when Craig could notice some off-putting details. Clyde looked physically uncomfortable as he sat on the bed, his midsection distended unnaturally. Also, the strong aroma of throw-up was lingering in the room. “What’s going on?” Craig finally asked. 

“I- I just need some support, I guess. I didn’t know who else to call with Token being grounded and all.” Clyde fidgeted with his hands.

Craig eyed him with a concerned look plastered across his normally passive face. “Well, what happened? I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

Clyde looked down, shame and guilt showing in his brown eyes. “I had a really bad episode.”

Craig visibly softened at the words, a small glint of unidentifiable emotions coming to the surface. “Oh. You’ve never had me come over before for this. How severe was it?” He was obviously struggling to find the right words.

Clyde glanced at him, tears gathering in his eyes again. “It was one of the worst ones that I’ve had. Ever.”

Craig nodded at that. “I’m sorry, dude,” The taller male paused for a moment, looking conflicted. “Do you want some help… relieving the pain?” He gave the brunette’s body a once-over.

Clyde’s eyes widened. Since when did Craig start acting like this? He had always been protective and especially careful around the brunette, but it seemed like he was giving extra attention to him this year around. “I- um. What do you mean?”

Craig smiled, the look of his friend’s overly flushed face was so adorable. He tried to keep his hard-on from showing, but this task was getting harder by the second. Clyde looked wrecked, but the noirette found that endearing. Craig had to avert his attention from his friend as his thoughts began festering on the fact that the brunette looked to be getting “bigger and bigger” every time he saw him. Once he did return his attention back to the other male, he was met with a look of confusion and possibly even a little bit of hurt. Before getting a chance to think over his impulsive thoughts, he was pushing the other male back onto the bed.

Immediately, Clyde was retaliating. “Craig! What’re you doing!” He practically cried out.

“Just relax, dude. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.” Craig whispered, looking almost animalistic.

“Stop!” Clyde finally squeaked out as Craig’s fingers brushed under his shirt.

The noirette had finally gotten to feel that soft, plush skin when he got knocked back by the brute force of a terrorized Clyde. “What the hell do you think you’re doing! I wanted you to come over to help not to- to-” Clyde stuttered as he simultaneously bawled and began breaking down. 

“What the hell is wrong with you dude, relax” Craig said, guiding Clyde back onto the bed to sit down.

A moment of silence passed as both of them tried to catch their breath. “What were you doing? I just wanted some comfort.” Clyde finally let out, his voice small and weak. 

“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t control myself.” Craig’s eyes were downcast as he replied.

“What do you mean you couldn’t control yourself?”

“I- just- I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’ll tell you about it later.” Craig had finally moved to grab his coat off of the chair.

“I think you should leave.” Came the brunette’s late reply. Craig was already heading to the door as he spoke.

“I am. I’ll see you at school on Monday. No hard feelings, I guess.” The noirette said, not sounding convinced at his own words. 

Clyde’s POV

Clyde watched as the other male left. What a disaster. Luckily his parents seemed to be still asleep. He allowed himself to reflect on the complicated situation that had just blew up. Why wouldn’t Craig tell me why he did that? Why did I react so drastically? Why would I think that I should call a friend to help with a problem that I should be able to fix myself? Fuck, I probably just lost another friend to my own stupidity. Maybe I’m going crazy. Yes, that sounds right, I’m going crazy.

The onslaught of disorganized thoughts coursed through his mind. He was shaking like a leaf as he sat down, heart beating heavily. Having suicidal thoughts were beginning to become a trend in his everyday life. If only he had the guts to go through with something like that. 

He thought about Kenny, wishing that he hadn’t ruined that relationship, too. He could really use something right now, something illegal that would calm him down. He thought about calling the blond, desperate for some kind of emotion stabilizer. It was no lie that the burnout student could get anyone any kind of substance that they wanted. Weed sounded like something that would be beneficial, something that would mellow him out. Although the thoughts sounded nice in theory, he knew that in reality he’d never be able to get anything like that. He didn’t even have the money to make that kind of a “purchase”. 

His endgame plan was to take out the bottle of melatonin that he always kept in his bedside table, his choice drug. He took two of the ten milligram tablets and swallowed them down. If only he had the guts to be able to better himself. He couldn’t help the fact that life took every ounce of motivation from him.


	7. 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To begin, I apologize for this being so late. I've been really busy, and have also lost quite a bit of writing motivation. Something that I feel like I need to explain is that I have OCD and frequently get obsessed with things. South Park has been my obsession for a couple of months, so it is getting harder for me to continue writing something when I'm coming out of an obsession for it. I can't control when my obsessions come or go, which is why I usually stick to writing one-shots. I am, however, deeply connected to this work, so I'm going to try and continue writing as much as I can. That being said, I don't know when the updates will be happening, or how much longer this work is going to be. I really hope to finish this work and will try my best. If anyone has any tips to stop OCD cycles, I would love to hear them. Just drop a comment. Anyways, sorry for the rant and I hope this Clyde-less chapter is okay for what it is. Thank you to everyone who's reading, leaving kudos, and commenting.

Craig’s POV

After leaving Clyde’s house, Craig angrily got back into his car. Somehow he’d managed to keep his anger under control while in there, but the second he was alone, he felt like he should bash his own head into the steering wheel. He was still slightly aroused, his dick ready to get some action. He’d never wanted to fuck Clyde more than in those past ten minutes; his level of arousal was exponentially more intense than when he watched his friend eat a ton of food the last time he was at his house. Without thinking, he ripped out of the Donovan’s driveway, throwing gravel in the process. He pushed the gas pedal into the floor, and let his angry thoughts fuel his driving. 

Without thinking, he was doing twenty miles over the speed limit. If a cop had spotted him not only would he probably get fined, but he would also go to jail. He didn’t really care though, having the personality qualities of a spoiled, rich, teenage girl made him take risks like that. It was almost twelve at night when he pulled onto his street. The darkness made it hard for his eyes to see, but he still managed to park in his driveway, not the road. After stomping to the door, he unlocked it and made his way back to his room. He almost had a heart attack when he opened his door, a skeleton-looking person sitting on his bed. “Tweek?”

“Hmm.” The blond looked up at him, his pupils dilated, and his whole body trembling. 

He looked… Sick? High? Sad?

Craig couldn’t figure out what was going on until he got closer to his boyfriend. It wasn’t Tweek that gave it away, but more like the bottle of pills on the floor. Tweek never stores his meds in the bottle they came in. Craig thought, picking up the orange container from the ground. He turned it over, just in time to see the words “Xanax” and the name “Carol McCormick”. He didn’t have any more time to study it before Tweek was lunging at him, seizing the bottle. Craig’s face was immediately heating up, red hot anger causing his blood to flow at a rapid pace. “Why the fuck are you taking those?!”

Tweek looked taken aback. His mouth opened, then closed again. He appeared to be drowsy and functioning a lot slower than usual. Craig didn’t have the patience for him but also didn’t know what to do about the situation. Still not thinking clearly, he turned around and kicked his bedside table with all the strength he could muster. The blow he landed rang through his body like a bell ringing and a tingling sensation crawled up the leg he used to kick the piece of furniture. He wasn’t done though, he had more emotions to release. Right after kicking the table, he punched into the corresponding wall, so enraged that he didn’t even feel how his knuckles cracked under the pressure. 

He continued destroying his room, all the while terrifying Tweek. It wasn’t just the fact that he found his boyfriend abusing a controlled substance, but also the fact that the one person that had been driving him crazy as of late wouldn’t let him have his way with his body. After a particularly loud crashing of a picture frame shattering on the floor, the small blond had finally gotten out of his terror-inflicted trance. “Craig! S-stop! Please.” Came the strained voice.

The mix of exhaustion and the sound of his lover screaming was what finally cooled him down a bit. He was shaking, finally feeling the effects of his temper tantrum. Tweek looked at him, his fearful eyes being replaced with ones of distraught and infuriation. Tears were streaking down his cheeks as he grabbed his coat and fled the room. “Come on Tweek. Don’t leave, I’m sorry!” Craig yelled as he ran after the other male. 

Tweek’s POV

The blond’s feet slapped against the pavement, somehow managing to outrun Craig. Well, at least putting enough distance between them to make the black-haired male give up. He felt so many things at once: anger, sadness, drowsiness, and even withdrawal. Craig was his rock, the only person who’d taken him under his wing after years of bullying. Without him, the blond was nothing but an abnormally small-sized, anxiety-ridden freak. At least that’s what Cartman had called him years ago. 

He had never fought with Craig before, the male had always been extra careful and sweet around him. The overwhelming feeling of distraught caught him off guard, so when he found himself at the doorstep of none other than Stan Marsh’s house, he wasn’t too surprised. Before he was able to knock, he had to go through ten solid minutes of emotional warfare inside his head. He’s going to tell me to go away. I’m just being a burden. It’s so late. 

The deciding factor that led him to knock on the door was the fact that it was freezing outside. The time gap for him waiting for the door to open was tortuous. Before he could sprint away from the house, the door was being slowly opened. He thanked the universe as the opening revealed the silhouette of the buff teenager. If it wasn’t for the recent comments and endearing actions from the football team leader, the blond wouldn’t have had any idea as to where he was going to end up. It definitely wasn’t going to be his house, he didn’t want to explain to his nosy parents why he was leaving Craig’s house early. 

Stan pursed his lips, wondering why the hell Craig Tucker’s cute boyfriend was standing at his door, looking like a complete mess. He wasn’t going to complain though. “Tweek. What’s going on?”

The blond’s blue eyes sparkled with tears, one thin finger going to push the hair from his line of vision. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t mean to- Nng- bother you.”

Stan let off a small, almost comforting smile. “Come in, it’s really cold out there.”

Tweek didn’t argue as he stepped into the warm living room. “Do you want something to warm you up? You look like you’re freezing.”

The small blond shook his head, moving to sit on the couch. All the running took a heavy toll on his already weak body. “I’m okay.”

Stan nodded before taking a seat next to him. “What happened? Did Craig do something to you?”

Tweek cringed at the thought of Craig purposely harming him—it was an absurd idea. “No. H-he just got a little mad. I- Ahh!- wanted to give him s-some space, but I didn’t want to go home.” He sniffled, cheeks and nose still red from the icy temperature outdoors. 

“Craig’s a dickhead. But don’t worry, I’ll help you feel better.” Stan got up, not waiting for a response.

Tweek found the words odd but decided to just wait until the other teen got back before he made a move. Sure enough, little time passed before Stan was coming back into the room, a large bottle of what seemed to be alcohol and two shot glasses in his clutch. As he sat down, Tweek couldn’t help but feel a little anxious. “W-what’s that for?”

Stan chuckled before popping the top off of the bottle. “I told you I was going to make you feel better. I’m just completing that promise.”

“I-I can’t drink that.” Came the squeaky voice.

“Why not? It’ll make you feel better, I promise.” Stan countered.

Tweek played with the hem of his sleeve, mind whirling with calculations of calories and images of nutritional labels. He, for the first time in forever, got his mind to be quiet for a moment. It’s alcohol, It doesn’t have anything bad in it. He repeatedly thought to himself. 

With nimble fingers, Stan poured the two glasses full of the auburn-colored drink. “I-I don’t-” Tweek began before deciding against voicing his concerns. 

He didn’t feel the normal rush of nervousness as a small glass was handed to him. “It’s cinnamon whiskey. It’s good.” Stan said, gulping his down in a matter of seconds.

Tweek watched, wondering if it would help him to forget his and Craig’s argument. Before thinking too hard of the consequences, he was downing the little shot. It burned on its way down, making his throat tingle. With a small cough, he sat the cup on the coffee table. “Ready for another one?” 

He looked over at the other male before slowly moving his head up and down. Stan was quick to pour the liquid into the glass, filling it up. After that, he poured himself another one and gestured for Tweek to take it at the same time he did. A small cheer could be heard from the black-haired male as he watched one of his crushes come undone. After the initial two shots, Stan kept pouring more and more, easily being able to once Tweek starting getting a buzz. 

The number of shots was uncountable as they continued drinking. After the entirety of the fifth was drained, they stopped. Tweek was completely plastered, unlike Stan who was still just a little tipsy. The black-haired male was used to drinking daily, unlike the underweight teen. This made for the perfect chance for the football player to take advantage of the smaller male, something that he’d been fantasizing about. It was so easy to just push the blond onto his back and kiss up and down his neck. Tweek was so out of it that he didn’t even notice his clothes being removed. His cheeks were red and his body actually felt warm for once. It was nice, his body and mind being this numb; it was unlike taking his meds alone, which didn’t make him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. 

Stan smiled at the submissive male under him. He didn’t feel an ounce of guilt as his mind connected the similarities between the lithe body underneath him now, and the taller one that was underneath him earlier. His mind told him that they were both there to pleasure him, that it was their jobs. The black-haired male’s thoughts were twisted and warped in a way that could only be caused by a long-lasting presence of a bad influence. Someone that had been grooming him for his entire life.

The actions were getting progressively more sexual as Stan moved Tweek’s lower body closer to him. He was so light, his jagged bones poking through the pale flesh. Stan licked his lips as he slipped his pants down to his knees. Tweek, who was still not in his right mind, complied to every direction given to him. “Open your mouth.” Stan demanded. His voice was gravelly and needy, but to the blond, it sounded soft and gentle. 

With a warm hole to stick his dick in, Stan was satisfied. He pushed into the hole, making sure to not hit the sharp teeth inside. Tweek was instantly suctioning his lips to the body part, circling his tongue over the head ever-so slightly. Stan moaned as he began bucking into Tweek’s mouth. Being the douche he was, Stan let the blond tip him over the edge of orgasm, then sat back against the bed. He didn’t even bother helping Tweek get his clothes back on. It didn’t really matter though, the blond was struggling to stay conscious as it was. 

Stan put his clothes back on, then jumped right into the bed, making sure to get under the covers. Kyle had slept over before too, but he always took up way too much space; this was much better. Tweek had passed out before he could get up, so he was naked and positioned in a terribly awkward way. Stan ignored it. If he can’t handle a few drinks, why should I be the one to help him get composed? I’m not his boyfriend. The obviously bitter male thought.

Within the span of two minutes, the bigger male was asleep, plunging the room into a deep, dark, silence. If he’d actually cared to get to know the blond, he would’ve known better than to leave the room so pitch black. This is exactly why he got woken up an hour later by the sound of sniffling and retching. He was in a sleep-induced haze so he didn’t understand what was happening until he stumbled over to the lamp. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the harsh light, but when they did, he was livid. “What the fuck man?!” 

Tweek was leaned over the side of the bed, naked, shivering, and getting sick all over the floor. Stan was immediately grabbing the small waste bin from by the bed, pushing it under the other male. Tweek didn’t even get to say anything before he was violently retching into the bin. He was a complete wreck. Stan finally felt a tinge of regret and guilt as he watched the smaller boy tremor. In a bout of shame, he left the room, going to retrieve a rag to clean up with. He wasn’t thinking too much about what was going on inside the other’s body, but he was thinking about how he should’ve never given someone like Tweek alcohol. 

Tweek’s entire body clenched painfully as he emptied his stomach. Stan couldn’t help but cringe at the image unfolding in front of him. He stood by the bed, contemplating if he should help the blond out, or leave him alone. He didn’t get long to think about it because a small hand was suddenly reaching out, grabbing his arm weakly. “Hospital. Please.”

The whisper shook Stan to the core. It wasn’t just the noise of it, but was also the look in the other male’s eyes. His pale green orbs were pleading with him, sending a message that he was suffering greatly; even through the obvious intoxication. He thought about asking him if he was sure that he needed to go, or if he needed to call an ambulance, but ruled out both ideas. The football player rushed to his closet, rummaging for something that would be suitable for the tiny blond. Amidst all of the South Park High spirit wear was an old matching tracksuit, the one that he got for Kyle a long time ago for when they would workout together. He wasn’t tired anymore. Now, he was beginning to freak out a bit at the prospect of his peer being in real danger: danger that he put him in. 

Tweek looked like he was going to black-out again as Stan helped him into the outfit. He was swaying as the sleeve’s were pulled over his concerningly-skinny arms. Once he was dressed, Stan grabbed his phone, wallet, and keys, and was ushering them out into the hallway. It was the middle of the night still so it was very quiet. Stan didn’t want that to change, so he tried his best to make the least amount of noise as he helped his sick classmate outside. With that done he practically pulled Tweek into the passenger seat of his truck, a task that was easier said than done. His breath was coming out fast as he finally fastened the seatbelt around the barely conscious male. 

As he sat down at the driver’s seat, he took a deep breath and thought about how bad of a situation he was in. He let another guy’s boyfriend into his house, got him drunk, basically sexually assaulted him, and then managed to put him in such a state that he was asking to go to the hospital. That wasn’t all, however. Now he was forced to drive in the middle of the night, without his parents knowing, and still slightly inebriated. 

He slammed his door closed, checked to make sure that the blond was still breathing, and floored it out of his driveway. He didn’t have time to think. He focused his energy on trying to see the road, his headlights being way too dim for him to see as much as he would’ve liked. He didn’t have much experience driving at night, but that also didn’t matter. The only hospital around was Hell’s Pass, which wasn’t too ridiculously far away. He pushed the pedal farther into the floor at the thought. He just had to get to the hospital, and he might not get in too much trouble. 

Being the time of night it was, there weren't too many South Park police officers out and he was able to make it to the hospital without being stopped by one of them. The night was cold and the parking lot was desolate as he ran into the building. He went to the first person he saw, yelling about how his friend was throwing up blood and was very sick. He didn’t know exactly what was going on, but the bad feeling in his gut was enough to rile him up. The woman he had stopped was quick to tell a passing nurse about the situation and, soon enough, a group of medical workers were surrounding his truck. 

He watched in awe as a stretcher was wheeled to the car. He was pulled from the tornado of thoughts when he noticed that someone was marching over to him. “Sir, we need to ask you some questions.”

It was an older doctor. He looked to be in his late fifties, and had a deep frown etched into his face. “Okay.” Stan was able to spit out.

“Who is this boy, and what happened to get him in such a bad way?” Was the first question.

“He- he’s a friend of mine,” Stan rushed to think of a believable lie. “His name is… Tweek Tweak. He came to my house intoxicated. I think that he did some drugs or something too.” 

The lie was weak, and it was obvious that the doctor didn’t believe him. “Son, we have tests that can tell us exactly what’s going on here. You can either tell us what actually happened now and possibly save your friend’s life, or you can lie and risk his life.”

Stan’s eyes widened in astonishment at the words. “He got in a fight with his boyfriend and came to my house. He was really upset. I thought it would be fun to get drunk, so we took a couple, well… a lot, of shots.” The football player let out, his head down in embarrassment the whole time.

“I see. We’ll call both of your parents right away and let them know what’s going on.” The man said before walking away.

Stan was left standing in the dark by himself, soaking in the conversation that had just occurred. The words, “We’ll call both of your parents” were repeating themselves over and over in his head. A pit of dread sat in his stomach. He thought about getting in the car and driving away, but knew that logically wouldn’t be a good option. He’d just have to face his parents in the pitiful state he was in. 

While waiting outside, he could feel his skin beginning to burn as the frigid air clung to him. When the temperature outside had finally gotten to be too much, he finally decided to wait inside the building. The anxiety and nervousness he was feeling was causing him to pace up and down the corridor of the waiting room, and the woman at the receptionist desk glanced at him, but didn’t say anything. She’d probably seen the same display before, working in South Park and all. 

It wasn’t until the Tweak’s arrived that he finally felt guilty. Mrs. Tweak was already crying as she ran to the front desk. Stan watched the scene from a distance, worried about the reaction he might receive from the worried parents. Before he got to experience any wrath, he slipped into the nearest bathroom. After splashing his face with water and giving himself a mini pep-talk, he was ready to face the inevitable. His face was stoic and calm until his shoes hit the carpet of the waiting room and his eyes focused on the one and only Craig Tucker. Just the idea of Craig seeing him was enough to send him flying down the opposite hallway of the medical facility. Even through his slight intoxication was he able to feel a surge of fear as he ran for his life. 

Eventually, he ended up at an exit which he took the chance to utilize. He didn’t know what side of the building he was on and where his car was parked, but he did know that he had to get out of there. His athletic body took the run smoothly, his breath still coming out nice and slow. This is the only reason why he got to his car so fast and why he was able to climb inside and lock the doors so quickly. Instead of just staying in that one spot, he jammed the key in the ignition and backed out. He never wanted to leave somewhere so bad. 

After adjusting his car in the far parking spot, he let himself relax for a moment. Tweek is going to be fine. Everything will go back to normal. 

He let himself believe the words for a solid ten minutes until his parents vehicle was pulling up next to him. He almost had a panic attack, or at least he thought he did. His mom was the one only one who stepped out, a blank expression on her face as she walked over to Stan’s car. How could they see me over here? I thought I was hidden. The teenager thought as his mom approached his window. Not wanting to make the situation any worse, he compiled by rolling the pane of glass down so he and his mother were face-to-face. “Stanley Marsh. Give me your keys and get into our vehicle.” Sharon’s stern voice cut through the silent air.

With a gulp, the football player handed over his favorite possession and opened the door. “Are we just going to leave it here?” He asked, his voice passive.

“Your dad is going to pick it up after work tomorrow. Let’s go.”

Stan held back a groan as he rolled the window up and stepped back outside. His mother watched him like a hawk as he opened the door of their car and sat down inside. She quickly turned around to lock Stan’s car with the key fob before walking back over to her own. It wasn’t until they were on the road that she said anything. “You know, I feel absolutely terrible for the Tweaks,” She started, moving one of the front mirrors so that she could keep on him in the back seat. “But I feel more bad that it was my son that did this. I thought we raised you better Stan.” 

Of course she wouldn’t seem angry on the outside. It was her super power to not seem angry. This however, didn’t make matters better. The disappointment in her voice made him want to open his door and step out of the moving vehicle. He didn’t dare look at her for the rest of the ride, even through her speech on “how she tried to raise her son right.” He blocked out the conversation, looking out the window into the darkness. Everything sucked now, but he couldn’t shake the dread at the idea of Craig Tucker getting the whole story. Of course, Stan was taller and more muscular than him, but the anger that fueled his fights would always prevail. If he was going to survive, he was going to have to enlist in some help.


	8. 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that this is early and also that I said I was having a hard time writing in the last chapter, but I somehow managed to write this out pretty quick. I definitely threw a curveball with this chapter, and I really enjoyed writing it. I don't have a concrete ending for this story, so I'm just kind of writing what feels right. The new ship in this chapter feels right, I just hope that it isn't too weird. Anyways, thanks for reading, leaving kudos, and commenting.

Clyde’s POV

Clyde’s mind was racing as he gathered his things and shoved them into his school bag. He had already gotten into a small argument with his mother that morning, which had resulted in the woman being more disgusted with him than usual. Nothing ever changed. The weekend was a blur of sleeping and binge eating, which had been a whirlwind of pain. Stuffing himself until he was sick for three days really did a toll on his body. 

With a grunt, he positioned himself in his car. The space was becoming more suffocating each day, but Clyde tried to not think about it. His head was pounding for the entire ride and he almost pulled over several times as he made his way to the brick building. By the time he arrived, he was five minutes late and beginning to feel nauseous. After he had made his way inside, he rushed toward the nurse’s office for any kind of pain killer she had. He stood by the doorframe and peeked inside to see the woman typing away on her computer. Feeling quite desperate, he gave the frame a small knock and waited for her reaction. 

Upon seeing the obviously nervous male, she motioned him in and offered a warm smile. “Clyde, it’s good to see you. How can I help you, sweety?”

“I-I have a headache and was wondering if you have a Tylenol or something?”

“Oh! Yes, of course, I’ll go grab one.” She replied.

A minuscule amount of time elapsed before she supplied the white pill in a small paper cup. “Thank you.” Clyde said as he reached for the painkiller. 

“You’re welcome. Just let me know if you need anything else.”

Clyde nodded before going to the nearest drinking fountain so he could down the medication. The only thing he could think of as he swallowed the thick white pill was how nice the lady was to him. It was refreshing to be treated as just another human being. However, as nice as it was, his upset feelings remained intact. After disposing of the cup, he took his things to his designated locker and got out only what he would need. 

The bell had gone off about ten minutes ago, so he was forced to walk into first hour alone, and the center of attention. He tried to not look at anyone as he sat down, his skin crawling from all the eyes on him. “Clyde, do you have a late pass?”

His eyes met the teacher’s as he shamefully said “no”. 

“Well, that’s a tardy then.” She simply stated before going back to the lesson on influential American writers. 

The topic was horrendously bleak, but somehow he managed to stay awake. For some reason, the whole class was silent. Usually, at least two people were having a conversation, but today was different. After stealing a glance around the room, he noticed that quite a few people were missing: Stan, Kyle, Kenny. Kyle was supposed to be back from his suspension, so where was he? Where were the others? Before he could think too far into the unimportant question, he brushed off the thoughts and wrote down the notes on the board. If he let his mind wander, he would probably start thinking about how gossip about him and Shelly sleeping together was probably going around like a virus, and he really didn’t want to think about that. Instead, he wanted to stay sane enough to make it through the year. 

It wasn’t until lunch that he realized something was really off. His normal table was completely empty, and none of his friends were in sight. He found himself asking questions again. “Where is Craig and Tweek? Jimmy?”

For a second, he thought that maybe they had switched tables again, but after a quick survey of the room, he came to the conclusion that wasn’t the case. If they had moved tables, he would’ve seen them somewhere. Instead of trying to sit with anyone else, he took residence at the usual table. He had a snack in the bathroom last hour like he’d been doing all year so far, so he didn’t have anything to do. He contemplated going back to his locker to fetch a book but didn’t want to go through the effort of walking to the other side of the school again. Deciding to wait the break period out, he just sat there and picked at the skin around his nails. 

With a start, he was interrupted from his bad habit by a lispy voice. “Hi, Clyde.” 

The brunette looked up to see Scott Malkinson hovering by the table, a tray of food in his hands. “Oh. Hi, Scott.” 

Clyde hadn’t seen the other male in ages, he was usually out sick. Every time he did get to see the diabetic student, he was surprised by how polite he was. “Would you mind if I sat here?”

“No, I don’t mind.” Clyde motioned to the other side of the bench.

Scott was known for his awkwardness and low standing in the school social hierarchy. In other words, he was an outcast that was constantly bullied for his uncontrollable illness. As Clyde thought about it, he noticed that they both had a lot in common. The only difference was the stature of the shorter male. Scott was much smaller, his diabetes making it to where he was very restricted food-wise. This made him quite skinny and an easy target for bullies. Clyde was bullied for his weight, while Scott was bullied for an illness—both of which are petty things that people will tear someone apart for with seemingly no reason.

After a moment of silence passed, a conversation began. “When did you get cleared to come back to school?” Clyde asked.

“Last Friday. My doctor said that my new medication was making a difference, so I could come back. Hopefully for the rest of the semester or longer.” Scott replied, his lisp prominent as he stuck his fork in a piece of lettuce. 

As he watched the other male talk, Clyde felt something flutter in his stomach. He didn’t want to feel the emotion, it just showed up out of the blue. For once, Clyde took in the appearance of the other student: slightly wavy brown hair, light freckles, pink lips, shining green orbs. All things that Clyde had looked passed before. 

Finally breaking out of his trance, Clyde was able to come up with a sensible reply. “Really? That’s good to hear.”

Scott smiled as he finished chewing the green plant. “How have you been, Clyde?”

The brunette’s eyes dulled at the question. He knew that Scott was harmless, yet, he still didn’t want to share the events from the past two weeks. Or any in the past year, for that matter. It wasn’t even like Scott had said or acted like he noticed the other brunette’s new size and insecurity, but Clyde still wanted to keep his struggles private. “I- uh- I’m doing okay. You know, the usual.” 

Scott nodded his head again. Before he could comment on anything, Clyde was asking his own question. “Do you know where everyone is? There’s a lot of people missing, and I was absent on friday.”

The shorter male looked confused for a moment until he seemed to realize who Clyde was talking about. “Oh! Yeah! I remember seeing a tweet from… Craig, I think? It was about Tweek being sick or something. I think he might have been in the hospital based on the picture. Here, I’ll show you.” Scott ranted, grabbing his phone from the bag beside him. 

After locating the tweet, Scott handed the device to the brunette in front of him. “See. Craig looks pretty worried.”

Clyde’s eyes narrowed as he studied the image of Craig holding Tweek’s pale hand, which had a hospital band wrapped around the thin wrist. “What the hell happened?” 

As he scrolled, he saw a few other tweets from Craig that were alarming. One particular tweet caught his attention. With a caption like, “Stan Marsh, you’ve really fucked up this time. You better hope that I don’t see you anytime soon” it was hard to not get worried.

“Stan?” Clyde asked out loud.

After looking over the photos, Clyde handed the phone back to Scott. If only he’d checked his social media feeds earlier, he would’ve known that something was wrong. With a pit in his stomach, he glanced at his own phone, checking for notifications. There were none, per usual, so he put it away and let his attention fall back onto Scott. “What do you think happened?” He finally let out.

“I don’t really know. It looks bad.” Scott shrugged his shoulders, finally finishing off his lunch.

Clyde watched as he got up to go throw the styrofoam tray in the garbage bin, feeling a bit of anxiety at the thought of him leaving. Believe it or not, Clyde liked having Scott around. He especially liked the fact that Scott could understand bullying like he did. “I have to go check my insulin levels. Do you want to come with me? You look quite bored.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Clyde stood up from the bench, instantly feeling pain in his knees and hips. Apparently the grimace was prominent enough because Scott had to ask if he was okay.

After assuring the male that he was perfectly fine, and making up some lame excuse for him being in pain, they were heading toward the bathroom. “I usually do this in here. Y’know because the blood and stuff. Some people get really grossed out by it.” Scott said, leading them both into the male’s restroom.

Clyde watched as he pulled the blood glucose meter out of his bag and poked his finger with it. A tiny droplet of blood oozed out, and he stuck the white tip of the monitor into it. “So, how many times a day do you have to do this?” Clyde asked, trying to fill the slightly awkward air around them.

“Usually just before or after meals. Sometimes less if the levels of insulin are normal enough.” Scott replied, focusing on the little device in his hands.

After that was done, he pulled out a small bottle of clear liquid and a syringe. Clyde decided to just let him do his thing, and ask questions later. After the medication had been properly dispersed into his veins, he disposed of the needle into a long plastic container that was also located in his supply bag. “Well, I’m good now for a couple of hours at least,” he glanced at the clock on the wall. “It looks like lunch is almost over, though.”

“Yeah.” Clyde fidgeted nervously before finding the confidence to continue. “What classes do you have?”

Before he replied, Scott pulled out his wrinkled schedule from his pocket. “Here, take a look.”

Clyde scanned over the sheet, surprised to see that he had the same second, fourth, and sixth hours with him. “That’s weird. I didn’t see you in algebra.”

“Algebra? Isn’t that my second hour?” Scott asked, moving so he could see the paper.

“Yeah. It’s my second hour too.”

“I was there. I sat beside Bebe, I think.” Scott replied.

“Oh. I got there early, so that’s probably why I didn’t see you.” Clyde finally unfurrowed his eyebrows.

After figuring out which classes they had together, he handed the shorter male back his schedule. “I guess I’ll see you next hour then. I have to go to my locker to get my stuff.” Scott pulled the bag back over his shoulder.

“Yeah, sure.” Clyde waved awkwardly before taking the first move at exiting the bathroom. 

As he walked out, he noticed his reflection in one of the full-body mirrors. Suppressing the urge to punch it, cry, or stare for longer, he just kept moving toward the hallway. The second he rounded a corner, the bell went off and a sea of students were rushing into the tight space all at once. The hallways were always so packed that he sometimes wished he could get a pass like Jimmy, who could leave for classes a couple of minutes early to avoid the hallway traffic. He couldn’t though; you needed to have a good reason for something like that. Something like a disability or a harrowing anxiety disorder. Pitifully enough, he possessed neither. 

After finally making it to his locker, he took a few puffs from his inhaler and grabbed a notebook and pencil. Luckily, he didn’t have to share his locker with anyone, so he had the whole space to store his supplies. After slamming the door shut, he pushed through the crowd to get to his language class. Once again, there were quite a few people missing, but this time it didn’t matter to him. He eyed the room, finally finding Scott among the many other students. He was quite short, so this wasn’t as easy of a task as it could’ve been. Clyde bounded toward the empty seat next to him, putting his stuff down and sliding into the small desk. Scott wasn’t sitting by anyone on the other side, and he appeared to be getting his stuff set out on his own table. 

“Hey.” Clyde said, smoothly.

“Oh, thank god it’s you.” Scott turned to face him properly. “I was worried that you might have been Cartman.”

Clyde tried to not think about how he just got compared to the evil Eric Cartman, as he began getting his homework from last Thursday out. “Oh, no. It’s not.” He replied, brushing a piece of hair from his eyes. “Do you know what we did on Friday in here?”

“Um, let me look in my folder.” Scott opened the perfectly organized folder, pulling out a few different papers.

Clyde could see a couple of parent consent forms, which had all been signed. “Here it is.” Scott said as he fished out a vocabulary sheet.

“I think I might already have that. Let me check.” Clyde then proceeded to scan over his own paper’s contents. 

After coming to the conclusion that Clyde had the worksheet, Scott remembered that all they did on Friday was go over the terms. Halfway through that conversation, the teacher stood up from her desk to quiet everyone. This made for the perfect opportunity for Clyde to secretly observe his new “friend”. He was trying his hardest to keep up with the lesson, but was still falling behind. He hadn’t befriended anyone in a long time, so this was new territory. Nonetheless, him and Scott had known of each other for quite a bit of time, but had never made the move to talk to each other unless it was a simple greeting. For some reason, Clyde was now seeing the other boy in a new light. Maybe it was because he and Craig had a fallout, or maybe it’s because he wasn’t doing sports anymore and Scott thought that it was safe to talk to him. The diabetic teenager would have never made a move to befriend someone even remotely popular; he knew that it would most likely end in him getting a beat-down in the school parking lot after the day was over. 

Clyde relaxed a bit at the thoughts. He was still worrying about what happened after Craig left his house on Friday, but tried to push those negative feelings out of his thought-stream. It wasn’t like Tweek was in the best condition anyways, he probably just overdid it on the pills, or maybe passed out because he wasn’t eating. Clyde used these assumptions to justify why he didn’t want to feel worried, and they seemed to work. All of the thinking caused the hours to go by faster, and soon enough, he was entering his last class for the day.

Deciding to, again, take a seat next to Scott, he did the same routine as he had previously done in his last two classes: lay out his pencil, paper, homework, and the rest of his possessions under the desk and out of his way. “So how was last hou-” Clyde began, getting abruptly caught off by a shrewd voice coming from his right. 

“Oh look, crossed-eyed captain diabetes has a new friend. None other than the biggest fish in the sea, Clyde Don’t-Have-a-Chin.” The two averted their attention to the snickering asshole, the only real asshole left in the room now that Stan, Craig, and Kyle weren’t there. 

Scott and Clyde shared a look. “It’s Donovan.” The bigger brunette stated in a low voice.

“What was that?” Eric snapped.

Clyde didn’t say anything else, not wanting the bickering to continue. “Uh. Just ignore him.” Scott whispered desperately.

Clyde shook his head in agreeance. As if the universe was looking out for them, the instructor walked in at that moment and the class became silent. Even Cartman kept his mouth shut for once. “Hello everyone. Today we’ll be learning about the government system in communist countries. Please turn to page one-hundred and six in your textbooks, and we’ll get started.” 

Clyde was beginning to feel numb to the comments, yet, a bad feeling was still sitting in his chest. Was he getting this feeling because of the fact that Cartman had also insulted Scott? Or was it because he was having a good day so far and someone tried to ruin it? He really wanted the latter to be the right one, but that felt wrong. What was happening to him?

So many questions. The only thing that settled his mind was focusing on the lesson and not letting his mind wander. The day was almost over, afterall. 

The hour felt like the longest in his life, It just dragged on and on. When the bell finally sounded at the end of the day, Clyde was surprised to be finding a letter slid over to him. He looked up to see Scott positioned by his desk, so he opened the letter. Inside he found a number and Scott’s name. “Just in case you need someone to talk to.” Scott remarked.

Clyde smiled. A real smile. “Cool.” He shoved the paper into his pocket. 

“See you later.” Scott replied before heading toward the door. 

Clyde waved. His heart was racing, but not because he had been exerting energy. He wasn’t even thinking about what Eric had called them earlier, just thinking about how good it felt to talk to someone new. Finally feeling an unusual burst of confidence, he pulled out his phone and opened his messaging app. His finger hovered over Craig’s name before finally clicking on it. “Hey dude. Sorry about Friday. I saw your tweets about Tweek, is everything okay? Please let me know.” He typed out.

After contemplating sending the message, he mustered up the courage to actually do the deed. He let out a breath, happy to get that off of his chest. Noticing that he was the only person left in the room besides from his teacher, he quickly made his way out the door. There weren't very many people left, so he was easily able to put his stuff away and make it to his car. As he sat down in the driver’s seat, he finally realized how the seat belt barely made it around him. “Fuck,” he thought as he struggled to get the belt clicked inside the plastic part. Just like he’d done that morning, he ignored the issue once he finally got the belt secured. He’d deal with that later.

Before leaving he made to check his text messages. For once, there was one message notification, and after opening it, he saw that it was from Craig. “Whatever dude. Just stop by Hell’s pass and I’ll tell you everything. Just tell the receptionist that you’re there to see Tweek Tweak.”

Clyde read it over and over, trying to figure out if Craig was mad at him or not. It seemed like he might have been, but if he was inviting him to talk then he must not be too angry. After loading the directions to the hospital into his phone, he shot his parents a text telling them that he’d be late coming home, and got on his way. 

After finding a parking space and locating the correct entrance, he asked the receptionist to see Tweek Tweak, just like Craig instructed him to. After finding out that Tweek was in room three hundred thirty-three, he was pinning the visitor card to his shirt and starting down the long corridor. After going up an elevator, he arrived at the correct floor. The room was pretty close to the elevator but he was still heavily out of breath by the time he was knocking on the door. 

“Clyde.” Craig announced, ushering him into the white room. 

The brunette’s eyes were immediately landing on the small form of Tweek, several tubes and machines attached to him. “He’s in a coma.” Craig simply stated, closing the door for privacy.

Clyde didn’t say anything, embarrassed by the fact that his breathing was almost louder than the beeping machines. “Take a seat. Looks like you need one.” Craig’s voice came again.

Instead of arguing or getting upset by the words, Clyde complied, taking a seat in one of the thin, uncomfortable chairs. The arms of the chair were digging into his thighs, but he brushed it off. He was here to find out what happened, not to get comfortable. “So. What’s wrong with him?” Clyde finally let out, his breath evened and his voice soft.

“It’s a really long story, but since you came all the way here, I guess I can tell you.” Craig paused for a moment, sighing louding. “He was staying at my house Friday night,” The noirette motioned toward Tweek, “and we got into a fight. I found out that he’s been doing various drugs.” Craig's face was as stoic as it usually was. “Anyways, he left my house and somehow ended up at Stan’s house. That fucker got him drunk, did god knows what to him, and even managed to land him in the hospital. It’s all because he got drunk while taking Xanax.”

Clyde didn’t know what to say or how to feel. It was all so much. 

“He’s in a coma now. The doctor’s keep saying that he may or may not come out of it.” Craig finished, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter behind him. 

“Damn.” Clyde couldn’t meet the other’s eyes. 

The silence was heavy, and Clyde couldn’t help but feel like he caused a part of the horrendous situation. “I don’t know what to do now, knowing that I may lose him.” Craig’s voice was lower now, more emotional.

“I’m sorry.” Clyde was finally able to make eye contact with the other male. 

Craig sniffled a little, obviously getting choked up. Clyde finally got up and gave the taller male a hug. Although he and Craig had run into issues with each other in the past year, Clyde still felt empathetic. To his surprise, Craig clutched onto him, tangling his fingers in the tight red jacket. He was sobbing. “This is a first,” Clyde thought to himself.

After five minutes of squeezing his ex- best friend, Craig finally loosened his hold. “I’m sorry Clyde. I’m really sorry how I’ve treated you this year.”

“It’s okay. I forgive you.” The shorter brunette replied.

After pulling away from each other, Clyde began picking up his phone and keys that he’d laid on a nearby table. “I have to go.” He whispered, feeling like anything too loud would shatter the melancholic mood. 

Craig nodded in acknowledgement. “I’m not going back to school anytime soon. Not at least until something significant happens with Tweek.” He muttered.

“Oh. That’s too bad. You have my number if you get lonely.” 

“Okay. Bye, dude.” Craig gave a small smile before watching the other male depart.

Clyde was trying to hold back his tears on the entire elevator ride. He couldn’t identify exactly why he felt so upset, he just did. He tried to keep the floodgates closed, but he couldn’t. The second he stepped out of the elevator, he was tearing up. As he removed his visitor’s pass and gave it back to the receptionist, he let the salty tears flow down his cheeks. Getting worked up while walking so much really triggered his asthma, so he had to take a few puffs from his inhaler the second he was back inside his car. A new “habit” of his.

Instead of immediately leaving, he let himself calm down. His life seemed to go from good to bad so fast, and he was getting tired of it. That’s when an idea popped into his mind. With a new spark of anxiety and anticipation, he grabbed the little white piece of paper with Scott’s name and number on it. He set his car up to take the call over bluetooth so that he didn’t get distracted while driving, and set off toward his house. The moment that the lispy voice hit his ears, he felt relaxed. “Hey, what’s up?” Scott asked, sounding quite tired himself.

“Nothing. I just went to visit Tweek in the hospital. He’s in pretty bad shape.” 

“Oh. I hope he gets better.” Scott replied, seeming like he was distracted by something. 

“Yeah, me too. I was just calling to say hi and to make sure that the number you gave me was the right one.” Clyde lied. He really just wanted a friend to vent to. One that hadn’t given him mixed feelings yet this year. 

“It’s the right one, right?” Scott joked a little.

Clyde let his lips form a smile. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Well, my mom keeps yelling at me to come get dinner, so I guess I’ll talk to you later or at school tomorrow.”

Clyde tried to not feel too disappointed at the conversation being cut short. “Okay. Bye.”

The call clicked, and he was, once again, left alone in the silence. Instead of putting any music on, he enjoyed the quietness for once. The quietness didn’t insult him or make him feel bad, after all. 

By the time he arrived home, the sun was setting and he was ravenous. Today was a better day out of the last few, aside from the hospital visit. He let that feeling be the one to guide him through the night and, for once, he didn’t binge eat. He still ate a large portion of the healthy dinner, but he didn’t eat until he wanted to get sick. He got through a day of school okay, and he was ready for whatever the future had in store for him and his new friendship.


	9. 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After 2 or more months, here it is. I've been busy lately, and this was sadly put on the back burner for a while until I got caught up with other stuff. I might be using my Tumblr, Paradoxous, to post updates if you want to look at that. (Fair warning though, I post multi-fandom on there). Sorry for the wait, hopefully, this makes sense because I had to write it in several different chunks. Let me know what you think.

Clyde’s POV

Class the next day began like any other day, void of anything amusing. That is, until a certain skank walked through the door. Clyde almost had the guts to roll his eyes at the spectacle that had just waltzed into the room but decided against the action. Kyle was back, entering the room in a fashion that only someone as vain as he could manage. Apparently, he wanted to make a scene, because his outfit was just as over-the-top as ever. A black, skin-tight cropped top and the shortest matching skirt on the planet definitely fell into that category. The dress code prohibited that particular length of bottoms, which is why there was also a dark-colored pair of tights underneath it. To top off the look, Kyle apparently had the audacity to wear a pair of heels with the get-up. God, how did he get away with being such a prick?

Clyde didn’t have the answer, nor the want to find the answer, so he resumed his text that he was so close to being done with. He’d been messaging Scott, who’d actually initiated the conversation earlier that morning. Clyde was elated to have someone who cared about him enough to want to text him. He couldn’t seem to focus, though. Kyle was standing in the front, talking to the teacher in his annoying high-pitched voice. Clyde laid his phone down, forgetting about the text for a moment so that he could observe his surroundings. 

Stan was behind Kyle initially but broke away from him when he decided to talk to the teacher. Instead, he made his way to his seat, looking tired and definitely not happy. The redhead was ridiculously loud as he spoke, his red braces gleaming and catching the light every time he moved his head. Clyde still felt upset about the comments made by him from earlier but decided to let it go. Kyle had apologized, after all. Stan was a different story, but at least he’d left him alone so far. 

There wasn’t much time left until the bell was ringing, signaling that class was beginning. Kyle had finally finished his conversation with the instructor and had slipped into his seat by Stan. “Actually, Kyle, I’m going to have you sit over here from now on.” The woman interrupted the quietness by pointing a finger at the empty desk next to Kenny.

“Why? I won’t be able to see from there.” Kyle all but whined.

“Because you and Mr. Marsh aren’t permitted to be next to each other during class anymore.” She replied, matter-of-factly.

Kyle groaned, the whole class eyeing him as he moved through the rows to sit at his new desk. Stan looked a little upset, but nothing compared to his boyfriend. The overwhelming smell of perfume and tobacco hit Clyde’s nose, causing him to cough. It was also against the rules to wear such a powerful scent, but Kyle only followed the rules if they were important enough. Of course, this smell lured in the actual whore of the century, Kenny, who was already leaning over to whisper something in the redhead’s ear. 

Clyde watched as Kyle backed away from the intruding blond, shooting a look at Stan, who just shrugged his shoulders. Stan seemed to not be bothered by much today, meaning that he was probably at least a little high. He also couldn’t get too mad at Kenny, he was the resident supplier of all substances illegal to minors, and Stan couldn’t afford to burn that bridge. Especially if it was just for Kenny wanting a piece of his stupidly pretty boyfriend. 

Once the teacher started calling attendance, everything quieted down. Clyde, who didn’t want to miss the opportunity to feel normal, picked his phone back up to send his text. Scott was in a different class but still replied quickly, telling Clyde about what they were learning. The brunette smiled at the texts, zoning out so much that he didn’t notice the voice directed toward him. “Mr. Dononvan!”

His brown eyes met the ones of an angry teacher, who was bringing the attention of everyone to him. “Bring that up here, I’m taking it for the rest of the day.” 

The woman had her hand out, gesturing for Clyde to give up his phone. “Sorry, I’ll put it away.” He replied, frantically shoving the device in his pocket. 

She gave him a look of warning and turned back around to face the whiteboard. Clyde could hear his phone go off from its new location in his pocket, and it took every ounce of self-control he had to stop himself from looking at it. Somehow, his boredom was enough to make him want to study the people around him, which is what he started doing to make time go by faster. Butters was directly beside him and seemed to be completely immersed in Kenny. Kenny was scribbling something on a paper and passing it around to everyone. Kyle was twirling a red curl around his finger and tapping his foot against the floor anxiously. Stan was on his phone, which was hidden underneath his desk. At that observation, Clyde looked toward his desk, noticing that he couldn’t fit his phone underneath his own; there was no space. He felt bitter at the realization. How is it so easy for everyone else to stay so skinny?

Clyde was feeling more antsy than usual for the class to be over, but that was to be expected when he had a reason to want time to pass. He wondered what Scott was doing in his own class, which had something to do with science. The sound of heeled shoes clicking against the tiled floor got his attention suddenly, and he looked over to see everyone in the class moving around. The one time he wasn’t paying attention also happened to be the one time that he should’ve been. The brunette looked to the only person he felt safe talking to, Butters, and asked him what was going on. “We’re reading this!” Butters held up the assignment, which looked to be some kind of research paper, and flailed it around in the air.

“O-oh.” Clyde scratched his head nervously and began biting his fingernails in thought. 

“You can work with me and Kenny if you want.” 

Clyde nodded his head in agreeance and attempted to slide his desk towards Butters so that he could hear him properly. “I’ll read first.” The blond squeaked.

Clyde picked up his paper and listened as Butters read along, stuttering on a few words as he went. Although he wasn’t the best reader, he shined in comparison to Kenny. It wasn’t that Kenny didn’t know how to pronounce he was reading, but more so that he had a hard time forming the sounds. His teeth were horrendously crooked, with a large distance between his two front teeth, and he obviously wasn’t very gifted at reading with stamina. After about one paragraph of broken words and wasted time, Butters was stopping him and telling Clyde, in the nicest way possible, to go next. The brunette liked reading but still wasn’t as advanced as someone like Kyle at it. The paper was short and allowed Butters and Clyde to get done reading before they were instructed to move on. 

The next thing they had to do was go over what they learned, a very basic school practice. Kenny was distracting them both the whole time, and they ended up not making much progress, but at least they got the chance to read the article all the way through. With the help of Kenny’s funny jokes, the rest of the class sped by and Clyde was finally able to meet up with Scott. He found the other male in algebra and took his seat next to him as usual. “Hi.” Clyde shyly let out. 

“Oh, hey Clyde. What’s up?” 

“Nothing, last class was boring as usual. What about you?”

“It was okay, I just don’t like the teacher,” Scott replied, sniffling a little. 

“Why?” 

“She’s just- well, she’s kind of rude sometimes.” 

“What does she do that’s rude? I feel like a lot of teachers are like that.” Clyde was pulling his stuff out of his bag as he asked, actually curious about the answer. 

“Well, she doesn’t let me eat during class. I told her that I have diabetes, but she still won’t allow it. She tells me that I need a doctor's note or something.” 

At the words, Clyde finally realized just how pale the other male looked. “That’s dumb. You should talk to someone about it. Maybe the counselor or something?”

“Yeah, I might do that when I get the chance. For now, though, I’m going to eat my trail mix.” Scott was ripping the little bag of dried fruit and nuts open, pouring some into his hand. 

“I can go with you when you go. You know- If it’ll make you feel better.” Clyde awkwardly suggested.

“Okay, maybe during lunch.” 

Clyde agreed and began studying the new sheet of paper that had just been passed out. It looked to be complex math, so hopefully, he could keep up. The teacher started with the lesson and then passed out the homework for the students to begin completing. Clyde started getting to work but found that he wasn’t exactly sure how to set up one of the equations properly. Without hesitating, he utilized his new friend by asking him for help. He wasn’t used to having that option, especially in a class that he didn’t share with Token or one of his other “friends”. He felt more normal than ever. 

His next class, computer class, went smooth as well, and he was finally able to see Token again. Token was his best friend for the longest time, and he sometimes didn’t realize how well they got along together. However, Token had started making new friends and he and Clyde didn’t spend as much time together as before. He was still deadly protective of the brunette, he had just branched out of Craig’s friend group. Clyde tried to act like it was okay but was actually pretty upset every time Token chose someone else for a group project other than him. Now that Clyde was hanging out with someone that wasn’t in any particular clique, he felt free in a way. Token was branching out to other people, Craig had gotten close to Tweek and developed some massive mood swings, and Jimmy was always busy with one of the ten clubs he was in. Scott couldn’t have swooped in and saved Clyde’s ass at a better time.

After exchanging a few simple questions and answers, Token was back to his conversation with Kevin Stoley. This left Clyde to focus on the computer in front of him, which wasn’t actually too hard because of how easy the assignment was. Halfway through the class, he excused himself and went to eat his lunch in his usual stall. Everything seemed fine until he entered the bathroom and ran into one of Stan and Kyle’s makeout sessions. He had walked into the room completely before he saw the two, which gave him no way to back out. At the sound of someone entering, Stan pulled away and glared at Clyde. “Ever heard of privacy, fatass?” Kyle was sneering from behind his boyfriend.

Clyde was turning to exit, taking long strides to the door when an object landed in his path, causing him to crash into the garbage can that was positioned by the closed door. He went down hard but was luckily able to somehow catch himself. He still fell, but instead of his face hitting the floor, it was his arms making first contact and catching all of his body weight. A sickening crack echoed through the room, and he was faintly able to hear voices through his ringing ears. “Keep your guard dog Token off my boyfriend’s ass, will ya?” 

He registered the voice as Stan’s but didn’t ponder that for too long. Both of his arms were tingling in pain, and he felt dizzy and nauseous. Accompanying this was tears, which cascaded down his face like a waterfall. He wanted to do something to stop the pain but feared the repercussions of moving. He didn’t know how long he’d been laying on the ground, his brain was still cloudy in a way. It wasn’t until the bell rang that he heard someone re-enter the room. “Holy shit! Clyde?” The voice was accompanied by a heavy lisp, a lisp that meant the world to Clyde.

He made a small noise back and opened his eyes to see Scott’s green ones boring into his own. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I fell,” Clyde said lamely.

“Here, I’ll help you up.” 

Scott took Clyde’s hand and tried hoisting the other boy up, which earned him an ear-piercing scream to hit his eardrums. “Sorry, I’ll- uh-” Scott walked around the large figure, trying to find a spot to help him up that wasn’t painful for him. 

He eventually tried helping by coming up behind him and using his armpits as leverage. Clyde was trying to move without hurting either of his arms, which was quite the challenge. With Scott’s small amount of help, he was finally able to get back on both feet. He was inhaling quickly, his face a deep shade of red from the pain and exertion. “My arms really hurt.” He choked out.

“Here, I’ll go get someone.” Scott dashed off before Clyde could even argue.

The smaller brunette was back with a teacher in the blink of an eye. “Oh my, that looks bad.” The teacher said when Clyde revealed his arms. 

One arm was bent the wrong way, and the other was lying limply to his side and was already looking quite bruised. “I think you need to go to the hospital, do you want me to call your parents?” 

Clyde felt even worse because of the question, but nodded his head in agreeance anyways. The teacher motioned both of them to follow him and started toward the office. “Have a seat, boys.”

Clyde just wanted the pain to go away, it was the only thing on his mind. It felt like an eternity waiting for the man to get back, but at least Scott was there to help take his mind off of it. After finding out that his mom was on her way, the taller brunette let out a sigh of relief. Clyde was surprised that the teacher didn’t question the situation further, but suspected that he would get his interrogation after his injuries were tended to. Scott went to grab his things from his locker and left Clyde alone in the quiet room. His mind immediately went to remembering the situation, images of Stan and Kyle flashing behind his eyes. Tears rolled down his face once more, but when Scott came back he made sure that the evidence was gone. “I’ll carry these for you when your mom arrives.” The smaller male was announcing as he took his seat.

Clyde let a few seconds pass before replying. “No, it’s okay. You should go back to class.” His voice was sullen.

Scott, who wasn’t expecting the change in mood, looked perplexed. “Are you sure? I can stay if you want, there’s only two hours left.” 

“It’s okay, go finish your classes. I’ll let you know if I need anything.” Clyde was looking down, suddenly wanting to be alone.

“Alright.” Scott seemed to be concerned but said his goodbyes and sauntered away nonetheless. 

Clyde waited in the silence alone, staring at the wall as he waited for his mom to come “rescue” him. It wasn’t long before the loud woman was barging into the office, her arms crossed and her demeanor anything but relaxed. She gave Clyde a once-over, and then went to grab his bag from beside him. “Where is the principle?” She asked the first person she saw, a younger woman who was most likely just a student teacher. 

The other woman looked back at her with an annoyed expression. “In her office.” 

Mrs. Donovan didn’t waste time before she was barging into the cluttered principal's office, demanding to be told why her son was in such bad condition. Clyde would’ve felt good about her seeming to care if he didn’t already know her true intentions; she was one of those people that would yell at anyone for any given reason. “Mom, can we please just go?” The brunette groaned, his elbow feeling more swollen with every passing second. 

“I’ll be calling you when I find out how much damage your students did to my son!” Clyde heard clearly through the walls.

When Betsy finally came stomping out through the french doors Clyde basically had to try and catch up to her. How could one be so professional one second and a total psychopath the next? Clyde would never know. Tears sprung to his eyes as he climbed into his mom’s SUV, his arms getting moved around much more than he would’ve liked. “What happened?” Betsy was suddenly asking as she pulled away from the school.

“I fell.” 

A tense silence filled the air for a moment, and when words were spoken again Clyde felt unease. “Tell me the truth, please, or I’ll take away your keys for a week again.”

Clyde gulped, trying to think of a good way to word his situation. “I tripped while exiting the bathroom.”

“You tripped?” She glanced in the rearview mirror with a sneaking suspicion. “What did you trip over?”

Clyde wished that he could lie further, but he knew that it was hopeless. “Stan Marsh’s foot.” 

“I see. Isn’t that the same boy that was bullying you before?” She asked with little to no emotion.

“Yes.”

Clyde could hear her taking a sip from her water bottle, and he wanted to drown himself in it. “You really need to start standing up for yourself Clyde. I can’t be taking time off of work like this all the time.”

It was like a lightbulb lit up in his head at the words. Of course, she didn’t want Clyde’s troublesome school life interfering with her job. She didn’t even care about his suffering. He looked downcast and stared at the hem of his sweater. He tugged at the red stitching and tried to forget where he was and how he was feeling. He didn’t want to think about his uncaring mom or the pain sending waves of nausea through his body. Luckily, she didn’t pry any further and let him relax. The radio was turned onto some instrumental music, void of any words or meaning to a teenager like Clyde. 

The tension in the car faded, and soon enough, they arrived at the emergency room. Clyde didn’t know what was going on exactly as he watched his mom hand the white insurance card over to the woman at the reception desk. After it cleared, they waited for a doctor. The room was overly sterile and quiet, but that wasn’t the bad part. The chairs in the room were thin, with armrests made for someone who wasn’t obese like he was. It wouldn’t have bothered him that much if there weren't other people in the room. Their stares were boring into his head as he squeezed into the chair, the too-small chair arms leaving deep welts in his legs. His mom also watched his struggle before getting bored and picking up a magazine. 

His day was going so bad, and the wait certainly wasn’t helping. Several names were called before his, and he was slowly getting more frustrated. Finally, after a long half-an-hour, it was his name being called back. It was a male nurse who took him back to the room, speaking to him in a professional manner. “If I can just have you step up on the scale for me please.” He was suddenly stopping in front of a small outdated scale. 

“It- It’s my arms that I’m here for. I tripped and fell.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I still have to record your weight though, it’s protocol.” The man feigned a sickly-sweet attitude.

Clyde didn’t want to, but his need to relieve the pain in his limbs mattered more. With shame, he removed his shoes and stepped onto the small platform, watching as the numbers climbed higher and higher, finally stopping at a clear three-hundred and fifty pounds. “Ok, and can I just have you follow me to room three, please.” 

The nurse kept his professional attitude on as he led Clyde into the small room, closing the door and taking out his clipboard. Meanwhile, the brunette was wallowing in humiliation and embarrassment. It didn’t help that his mother was on his heels the whole time, most likely with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. Once entering the room, Clyde felt his heart drop as he realised that the only place to sit was one of the two chairs, one of which was already taken by his mother. He would've gotten on the bed, but his arms prevented him from being able to climb up onto it. Things started getting awkward with him just standing there and all, so he moved to sit next to Betsy, who didn’t move an inch over. 

“Alright, so you’re here just for your arm, correct?” 

“Yes, my arms.” Clyde’s face was red as he replied.

“Ok, I’ll let the doctor know, he’ll be in in a minute or two.” The man smiled before slipping past them.

Once the door was sealed, Clyde was expecting an onslaught of words and questions from his pestering mom, but there were none. It was quiet. He wanted to play on his phone, but his arms burned when moved at all and he really didn’t want to deal with it. He steeled a glance at the woman beside him, who was texting a friend it seemed. That was all she ever did: yell at people and text her co-workers. Clyde ignored it, reveling in the peace and quiet until the doctor knocked on the door. 

The day had dragged on way too long, and he wanted nothing more than to lay in his bed and forget about everything. The doctor made her presence known, and came into the room with her own clipboard. She didn’t seem to be enthusiastic, but not rude or anything like that either. “Hello… Clyde.” She smiled as she read his name from his patient intake paper.

“Hi.” 

“So, I see that it’s your arms that are hurting after an incident at school.” She read from the paper before setting it aside and sitting down at the stool.

“Yeah, I think that one might be broken.” He replied, straight to the point. 

“Well, we’ll have to get an x-ray for that, let me look at them first if I can.”

At that statement, he hesitantly pulled the sweater off of his body, showing off the tight black top underneath. He didn’t want to acknowledge just how tight the shirt was, it would probably set him off. Instead, he focused on her as she observed both of the injured limbs. “Yeah, you’re going to need an x-ray, these look pretty bad.” She said, moving back to grab her clipboard. “I’m going to go get the radiology lab set up, hold tight.” 

Clyde could feel his heart beating rapidly, his blood pressure probably raised. He felt the shirt keep riding back up over his stomach, and he kept having to tug it back down to cover the exposed skin. When the woman was back to escort him to the room, he couldn’t have been any more grateful. It was not an entirely new experience, being a former athlete and all, but it still felt ethereal to be in the dark room like that. After a few pictures were taken of each arm individually, he was led back into the room that his mom was in. After more waiting, a diagnosis was finally made. “So, we have some bad news for you, I’m afraid. Your right elbow is completely shattered, and your left arm is just out of socket at the elbow area. We can fix the left one today, but the right is going to need a cast and to be monitored for a few months.”

Betsy looked perturbed, and Clyde felt nothing. “Well, I have to get back to work at some point today, so if he could speed this up a bit I would be thankful.”

Leave it to her to make a bad situation worse. “Of course Mrs. Donovan. We’ll get started right away. I’ll be right back with the supplies.” The doctor put on a plastic smile and left the room again. 

Clyde wanted to give his mom a piece of his mind but didn’t. He was miserable, but didn’t want to make it worse. This time, the doctor was back quicker, with another person in tow. “So, I’m going to need you to relax your arm. We’re going to pop the arm back in socket, but don’t worry, it should be over quickly.”

Clyde set his face to stone, trying to keep from trembling. The searing pain was sudden, then a wave of relief washed over him. He let out a cry in the process and tears finally streamed down his cheeks, but he was already feeling a little better. “Are you alright?” The doctor asked, brows furrowed in concern.

Clyde nodded, not wanting to speak. After that, his other arm was laid out and prepared for the cast. They inserted the items to set it and began wrapping it in a semi-tight wrapping. It was painful, but he dealt with it. Once they were done, his arm was thickly wrapped and he was given a sling to hold his arm in for the time being. It was something that he wished to never experience again. With that over with, his mom signed some paperwork and scheduled another appointment. He had to come back frequently for check-ups, the nature of his injury to be quite severe. But, as he was reminded by his mom when back in the car, at least he didn’t have to get surgery. Instead of arguing with her about why he obtained such an injury at school, he put his headphones in and looked out the window. He wished that he could step out of the car and into another universe; one where he was watching everything happen from afar instead of experiencing it.


End file.
